Hearts Desire
by goingstealth
Summary: What is one normal person supposed to do with the power of a God? If absolute power corrupts absolutely, what does that say about gods? [Revised version with new afterword]
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

He sat in a chair, a lump of bread in his hand he chewed. Swallowing, he dipped the bread in the soup that sat on the table before him and ate that bit as well. _An odd choice of throne_, he mused. _Odd indeed for someone who is the closest thing to a God..._ He replayed the events of the previous day in his head. _Sydney Losstarot is dead by his fathers hand, the Crimson Blades were virtually killed off, decimated in the fall of Leá Monde, as it sank into the very dust that it came from and I am the most powerful man in existence... where do I go from here?_

He looked at the soup that lay before him. He didn't even know why he was eating it; he didn't need it. He couldn't die; it was as simple as that. _What of the others? What of Merlose, Hardin and the boy? What of Grissom? What of Duke Bardorba? What am I to do?_ Sighing to himself, he tore another chunk of bread from the loaf, dipping it into the soup. Popping it into his mouth, he continued to think about what he was going to do with the powers he now had... to use them for the power of good or to hide himself away and to never use them in fear of causing more pain and grief than happiness to the world. The questions just never ceased and Ashley Riot was starting to get rather fed up with them but he knew they were necessary to keep the world a safe place. Without the questions, he would just do what he felt and that could lead to all sorts of trouble...

Sighing again as he realised the soup had grown cold, he took the rim of the bowl between his thumb and forefinger, channelling energy into it. Seeing steam rise from it, he was satisfied it was warm enough and dipped another chunk of bread in...


	2. Out Of The Frying Pan

**Chapter One - Out of the Frying Pan...**

He sat there in a brightly lit room, a largish window opened up allowing some fresh air into the otherwise stuffy room. He sat at his wooden desk as he did every day, stacks of paper either side of him with filing cabinets lining the walls of the room, each one of them packed full of reports.

It was an arduous task, a deathly boring one but it was necessary. He had to check each and every report to make sure he knew all that he could. Mostly these consisted of virtually blank sheets saying "Nothing happened," but every now and then something big turned up.

Sighing, he marked off the report sheet and put it in the out tray, reaching out for the next one in the in tray. There were only two things written on it, one more than was usual. The second one was insignificant to him but the first caught his attention. Spinning in his chair, the sheet clutched tightly in his hand, he pulled open a draw containing his pet project: The Leá Monde incident.

Quickly flicking through the bundle of previous reports he drew out a rather larger one. His eyes rapidly scanned the document, fixing on one name. Callo Merlose. Noting the referral sheet number, he went back into the draw, searching hungrily, wanting to be right. Pulling out a third sheet, he read it swiftly only looking for one thing and he found it. Comparing the original report and the one he'd just found, he compared the times and grinned, knowing he'd got it spot on. Somehow, Callo Merlose had been in two places at once; the first being her report to his overall bosses and the second being asked for identification by a guard on a street half the way across the city from the VKP headquarters...

Quickly he wrote out a report and put it in an envelope, including the two reports. Getting up from his hard chair, his knees cracked as they changed alignment. Trotting around the desk, he opened up a door, calling out to one of the office boys, 'gophers' as they were affectionately called. As one came at his call, he handed him the envelope.

"Make sure this gets to him right away, it's of utmost importance."

With a nod, the young lad jogged to the stairway, taking them two at a time as he made his way to the upper reaches of the building, somewhere he very rarely went to...

* * *

She stood before them once again, just as she had when they first assigned her to the case and when she had debriefed them about what had happened as far as she knew. Quite why she was here she didn't know but she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to find out.

As the head of the VKP council, Grand Stewart Le Sait read through some notes, Callo Merlose looked around the room. She sat at the far end of a long wooden table that stretched most of the way across the room. At the other end sat the high council, the people she worked for, the people that the safety of the kingdom was entrusted to. They ran the Valendian Knights of the Peace in service of the King and his Parliament. To her right there was a large, multi-paned window reaching all over the wall. From it almost all of the city could be seen. There were few buildings as tall as the one she now sat in so she could see over them into the distance. As she stared into the distance, she heard a cough from across the table. Turning her attention back to them, she dreaded what might happen.

"We've had some disturbing reports Inquisitor Merlose and we'd like you to shed some light on them for us." Opening a folder on his desk, he continued, "We have a guards report that he saw you out in Cambrose Street at the same time you were here, debriefing us on the Leá Monde affair. Now, you obviously know that is impossible so there must be another explanation and we believe that is Riskbreaker Riot, thus placing him right here in our fair city. As you now know, there is such a thing as magic and it is reasonable to assume that after the debacle at Leá Monde, Riot may well have picked up some powers of his own. As one of the only other survivors, we want you to track him down."

"Why me sir? Why not someone more experienced?" she asked nervously.

This time, Lord Arnaud spoke. "You were chosen because as your debriefing said, you have a somewhat tenuous link with Riskbreaker Riot an we hope that you can utilise that in your search for him."

"But sir, it works the other way only. It was Agent Riot's gift that allowed him to see what I saw, not the other way around."

Instead of admitting their mistake, they just stared at her. Callo felt herself shrinking down in her seat, shying away from their glares. _No, I won't let them belittle me. I am an Inquisitor and am to be respected._ Sitting up straight in her seat, her back stiff, Inquisitor Merlose composed herself and faced them, refusing to back down.

"Still, you are the only agent we have who has worked with Riskbreaker Riot before and we feel this will help you in your endeavour," continued Le Sait.

"May I ask why you are looking for Riskbreaker Riot?" Callo asked, staying true to her job, trying to get all the information she needed.

The Grand Stewart looked at her, an eyebrow raised as if he thought she was being impertinent. "The power he may now have is very dangerous and we fear it may corrupt him. If indeed it does, all hell will break loose and we cannot allow that to happen. If Agent Riot lives, it will be the death of us all and we do not want that to happen. Thus you are to hunt him down, capture him and bring him back here for interrogation. We must know if the power of Leá Monde has been passed on to him. We believe it has, the incident in Cambrose Street being proof. If so, he must be stopped..."

What he didn't realise is whilst he told her one thing, she also heard another message, saying the opposite. In Merlose's vision, she saw a grey form of Le Sait standing behind him, hands held stiffly behind his back, talking to her.

"_We need control of that power. With Ashley Riot as our lapdog, we can take this kingdom for ourselves, maybe even the world..._"

"Is there anything else I need to know for this mission?"

"No, that is all. We expect you to leave sometime today. Start by talking to the guard; you can find him on patrol around Cambrose Street later this evening. You may go now."

With a curt nod, Inquisitor Callo Merlose, stood up and left the room, her thoughts awhirl. _I have to find him and warn him... who knows what tricks the VKP have up their sleeves..._ She spent the rest of the daylight preparing herself for she knew that she had a long mission ahead of her...


	3. Plague Of Questions

**Chapter Two - Plague of Questions**

Birds flew in the sky where once they had feared to go as below them a lone figure in a black trenchcoat picked a route through the ruins of the city that now rightfully belonged to him. He was the heir to the powers of the ancient tome that was known as Leá Monde... the ancient Kildean city that had been the home of the cultist Müllenkamp. An odd choice for the leader of a cult; Müllenkamp had been an exotic dancer by day and the High Priestess of what was once classed as the greatest risk to society.

But he didn't care about that, none of it mattered. He was now the bearer of the Blood Sin, the large tattoo that covered almost all of his back. Every now and then the cross and sword that made up the Blood Sin flared up, causing him some minor pain but it didn't worry him. Pain was what kept him from crossing over; pain was what kept him feeling that he was alive; pain was the saviour of not only him, but also everyone in the world, past, present or future. The worst thing about immortality is it just never ends. That was why Sydney Losstarot had chosen him to pass the power, or the curse as Ashley often thought about, on to, knowing that he would not use the power for evil on that fateful day in Leá Monde. Oh, how wrong Ashley had been in believing that Sydney had been the evil one, it was the other way round. Sydney opened his eyes to the truth and helped Riskbreaker Riot save the world from those who sought to take the powers for themselves.

But again, Ashley didn't care about that, it had happened and he was stuck with it. In time he would find someone else to pass it onto when he had enough, no, that was not his worry. His worry was far more personal. He wanted to know who he really was, whether he really had had a wife, whether he really had had a son, whether he had killed them both or had witnessed their death. He realised he didn't know who he really was anymore for he couldn't return to the VKP now, not with his new power. He didn't dare risk it upon the world, knowing the tremendous evil it would bring about.

But there was one possibility... Ashley considered it as he sat down on a fallen Cathedral spire. There was one way he could make sure the power was never unleashed on the innocent but it would come at a cost, a cost he wasn't sure he could bring himself to pay. The cost of a few innocents in return for the safety of millions...

Sighing to himself, the Riskbreaker resumed his search, looking for a certain object. He knew it had to be nearby, the last place he saw it was atop the Cathedral as Romeo Guildenstern, the now dead leader of the Crimson Blades, had used it against him, the blade of sin, the blood sword. Closing his eyes, he recalled the city as it had been before its destruction. Guildenstern's body had slid from the roof to the west side whilst the Cathedral had toppled to the north. He knew because he had been standing on it when it collapsed. Slowly he orientated the picture in his mind, opening his eyes and seeing the destruction unfurl before him. He watched Guildenstern fall from the roof, his body changing as it made its descent. He saw the blade fall from his hand, plunging down towards the street over... there. Closing his eyes, Ashley wished away the image and opened his eyes to reality once more.

Walking to the spot he had memorised, he started hefting pieces of rubble to the side as if they weighed nothing, plumes of dust rising from each chunk as they landed meters away from him. Finally he found it, the blade made from Damascus shimmering in the bright sunlight. Picking it up, Ashley held it close, inspecting it. Some of it had been chipped and some of the edges blunted by the combination of the fall and the rain of rubble upon it, but that was of no consequence. Ashley ran his hand over the ruined parts, energy flowing into it from his palm and fingers and as he removed it, the blade was now perfectly reformed. With a grim smile of contentment, he placed it in the special sheath he had constructed for it and slung it over his back. It was going to be a long walk back but he wanted to do it in style. _Why waste immortality if you have it?_

Making his way to the waters that surrounded Leá Monde, a river of sorts created after the great earthquake twenty-five years ago, Ashley merely walked in, the small waves washing over his head as he trod on the riverbed. Instead of thrashing about as he slowly drowned, Ashley Riot carried on walking, revelling in the eccentricity of what he was doing...

_The loss of three lives to save countless millions... would it really be worth it? Could I kill in cold blood just so I can be relieved of a tiresome duty? Would I be any better than what I wish to stop?_ Ashley just shook his head as a fish swam by, its gills flapping as it took in oxygen from the water.

One was near death, one wanted death and one had stared death in the face and had escaped it on the back of one of the men who had kidnapped him... and then there was the matter of her. She had been affected by the wellspring that was Leá Monde as well... that would make her another candidate. But now the wellspring was gone, there were only two other people who could take the powers from him, the only other survivors: Callo Merlose and Joshua Bardorba... One was an innocent child whilst the other was like a lamb freshly put into a sheep pen full of hungry wolves, not knowing the danger she was truly in...


	4. Of Welcomes And Hellos

**Chapter Three - Of Welcomes and Hellos**

The two of them looked through the doorway to the young child who was just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing. They were both worried, the lad had barely talked to anyone at all in the last two days, ever since that VKP woman had returned him. No, Joshua Bardorba was definitely a worried young boy and they didn't know what to do about it. If only they could find out what was ailing him so, they could help him through it but he refused to talk to anyone. The last word he had said was "Bye," to the Inquisitor as she left and nothing else since then. He merely nodded or shook his head in response to questions and never spoke back. Even the Duke was getting worried about him and that wasn't a good sign. If the Duke got worried, everyone got worried because they knew his wrath would go unchecked.

"What can we do? What are we to do?" asked one of them in hushed tones.

"The only person he talked to was that woman from VKP... maybe we could get her to come back here?"

"Yeah right, and the VKP are gonna send her here to baby-sit him? I highly doubt it..."

"But the Duke has strong links with the VKP, maybe he can persuade them to do this as a personal favour to him..."

"Maybe, but who's gonna suggest this to the Duke though? I'm not gonna do it and I pity the poor soul who does."

"So that leaves me... great, just what I need."

"Should have kept your thoughts to yourself, you wouldn't be in this mess in the first place."

The young boy merely sat on the bed, thinking about the man who had cared for him in Leá Monde, Jon Hardin. He had died right after they escaped, the energy had just left his body and he couldn't keep going. Left alone with the VKP woman, he had spoken for the first time in the whole excursion and now... he was silent again. No-one here loved him or cared about him, they were looking out for themselves in fear of angering his father, the Duke. A young boy he may be, but he was an astute one at that.

"My lord?" came a voice, snapping him out of his reverie.

Silence.

"Would you like to see Inquisitor Merlose again?"

Silence.  
Eyes staring up at him.

"Would you speak if she came to see you?"

Silence.  
Eyes staring up at him.  
A small inclination of the head.

"Good. We'll make sure she comes to see you again. Is that alright with you?"

Silence.  
Eyes staring up at him.  
A small inclination of the head.  
A small smile played across his lips.

Whirling on his heel, the aide walked out of the room, practically bursting at the seams knowing that there was indeed a way out of their predicament. Beckoning to his companion, he made his way down the stairs, hope fluttering in his heart.

* * *

Searching for someone is always a tedious job at the best of times and this was hardly ideal for Callo Merlose. The bloodbath that had been Leá Monde was still playing on her mind. While she had missed most of it, it was still a horrific incident. Almost all of the Crimson Blades had been wiped out, Müllenkamp was leaderless and Leá Monde itself was merely rubble. She and the boy had barely escaped and she needed time to gather up her thoughts, not to be sent off after Riot straight away. She wasn't even sure he was alive... it wasn't like Sydney's body had been found. Couldn't it have been him who had assumed her form? Unless the board had already known what had happened... if they'd planned the whole thing from start to finish. Yes... she could see it happening. The manipulation of Müllenkamp and Duke Bardorba, Riot being sent especially on this mission to take the power... And f it had failed? They would have lost one man but the power of Leá Monde, the single greatest threat to their plans, would be gone forever...

Walking through the streets of Valein, the capital city of Valendia, she stared downwards at the cobblestones, people giving her a wide berth as they recognised someone in a VKP uniform. All military or law services thrive off of one thing: fear in the people and in its enemies. When they lose that image of fear, all they can expect is brutal and bloody war and so the VKP kept their fearsome appearance as best they could and hence, they protected themselves and Valendia.

She could smell the grime of the streets she walked through, the back alleys packed so closely together with no sewer system; the streets served that purpose instead and thus disease was rife in the area. Valein's population was steadily increasing, it was merely a matter of time until some vast disease hit the capital and then the population would shrink as the poor takes the brunt of it. That was how it always went, the cycle of life and death... always death... that was all that Callo Merlose thought of these days. _Damn Leá Monde..._ it was going to stick with her all of her life.

The sun was dwindling in the sky as it drew closer and closer towards night. There were few birds left in the sky, hardly any calls being cried out over the breeze-filled air. In front of her, she saw a guard step around the corner, his sheet metal armour clanking loudly as each step brought him closer to her.

"Officer Morgan?"

"Who wants to know?" the guard lazily drawled back.

Raising an eyebrow in annoyance, she replied, "VKP Inquisitor Merlose does."

Stiffening, he threw himself to attention, his gauntleted hand flying to his head in a rather sloppy salute, a small ding sounding out as his fingers tapped his helmet. "Sorry sah! Didn't recognise you in this 'ere light sah!"

"Indeed, I guess you didn't... so you remember our meeting last night?"

"Yes sah, indeed I do sah. I stopped you and asked for identification sah, and you showed me your warrant card sah!"

"... and then what did I do?"

"Sah?" a look of bewilderment spreading across his face.

"You heard me, what did I do after you continued on with your rounds?"

"B... bu... but surely you remember sah!"

"One last time Officer Morgan, what did I do after you continued on your rounds!" the hint of violence, carrying across in her voice.

Flinching, he replied, "I... I don't rightly know sah. You walked off in that direction sah." He signalled down one of the side alleys leading off of Cambrose Street. "And I continued walking up here sah."

"Didn't you ask me where I was going?"

"N... no sah! You're VKP! None of us Policia would dare ask that sort of thing sah!" he said, all sorts of thoughts running through his head as the strange questions kept being asked of him.

"That will be all Officer Morgan. Dismissed."

"Yes sah!" He saluted once more and marched off down the alley.

Merlose swore under her breath, no help having come from the retreating form of the guardsman. And then she saw him... the tall figure clad in a long black trenchcoat. In itself it didn't look all that odd but it was the hair she recognised; the brown zigzags wafting through the air.

"Agent Riot!" she cried out, but to no heed. He turned into an alley and disappeared from her view. She sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her, her thighs pistoning as she tore along the cobbles. As she skidded around the corner of the alley he had turned into, ex-VKP member Ashley Riot was nowhere to be seen. Bending over, she rested her hands on her knees as she struggled to get her breath back when she felt a hand on her back. Whirling around, she found herself staring deeply into a pair of deep azure eyes that seemed so alive... she didn't notice as he took her hand in his.

"Inquisitor Merlose, come with me please." And with that, he walked off, Callo Merlose in tow...


	5. Lea Mondé Revisited

**Chapter Four - Leá Monde Revisited**

Silently, he moved over the rooftops, watching the two as they traversed the streets below him. They were unaware to his presence... at least, he thought and prayed he was. While information on the man had been scarce, he knew enough to know that this was the cream of the crop, the best Riskbreaker that the VKP had ever made and that made him dangerous. Add to that the fact that he was purportedly one of the very few survivors of the Leá Monde incident and that had included people such as Jan Rosencrantz and Romeo Guildenstern, it made Ashley Riot a veritable messiah of fighting.

Smoothly he drew his crossbow, looking down the sight to see whether he was still in range. To his shock, he realised that he could only see the woman standing stock still on a crossroad, not moving at all except to breathe. Whirling around, he couldn't see his mark anywhere. Placing his crossbow back in the grip on his belt he started moving across the rooftops again. Seeing the large gap between buildings, he took two steps backwards before running towards the ledge and leaping over it to the other side. As he reached halfway across, time seemed to slow down, the jump taking forever as he slowly floated over to safety on the other side and then...

Riot was there, standing on the other side right where he was aiming to land. If he could have gone back, he would have but there was no stopping him now. Soaring across the street, he flew towards Ashley who raised up his right hand. He promptly dropped straight onto the VKP Riskbreakers hand and was lifted from his feet. He cocked his head as he looked at the man who was now in his hand. With a quick wink, he let go and... disappeared.

The sniper stretched out, just catching hold of the ledge with his fingertips, his arms nearly pulling out of their sockets as they went to full stretch. Looking around desperately, he saw a drainpipe to his right and started to inch his way across to it, praying his fingers would keep their grip. Droplets of sweat poured from his brow and armpits, drenching his clothes, rivulets streaming down his limbs. He felt his palms and fingertips becoming slick and losing their grip on the terracotta roofing tiles. Salvation was only half a meter away from him and he knew he could make it if he had just a few seconds more grip... changing his mind, he started to swing himself side-to-side, trying to build up momentum. Finally, his fingertips gave up and he flew through the air, his momentum carrying him towards the drainpipe. Sweet glory came to him as he felt his arms wrap around the plastic length of tubing, even more so when his legs got onto it as well. Clasping onto it for dear life, he let out a large sigh of relief.

Knowing full well he wouldn't find them again today, he slowly clambered down the pipe; hand under hand, foot under foot as he made his way to comparative safety on the floor. Jumping from about seven feet from the floor, he landed on his haunches, forcing himself into the Tumblers Roll to prevent any serious damage and got to his feet. Dusting himself off, he looked side-to-side to see if anyone had noticed his dismount, glad that there seemed to be virtually no-one about. He would have to write this one off to laziness on his part... a flaw in his own execution of the plan. Not that it mattered, he was his own and thus had no-one to report to or be admonished by. Normally he'd do these things for money but he had his own reasons for this job...

* * *

"It's time you found out what the hell was really happening at Leá Monde. It's only fair since you got caught up in it and it'll explain what I'm going to do."

Leaning forward in her seat, Callo Merlose looked intently at Ashley, a loose strand of her jet-black hair falling across her face. In annoyance, she blew at it, sending it around to the side of her head. "So... tell me what you have to tell me."

"Where do I begin? There's so much to say... well, here goes. It all started five years ago with a picnic. A man and his wife sat underneath a big green tree with their son. It was a beautiful day, the sun high in the sky and the woman, the most beautiful woman in the world, goes to get some water from a nearby river. The man is left talking to his son when he hears a cry out loud. He turns around and sees two strangers near his wife, one of them plunging his sword through her chest, blood billowing out across her white robe. Getting to his feet, he starts to move towards the two strangers when a crossbow bolt flies past him. Spinning around, he sees his son slump over, the arrow deep inside his chest. With a cry of rage, he runs towards the two brigands, he kills them both in a fit of rage."

Callo sat there entranced, not even noticing the single tear running from the Riskbreakers eye.

"That man was me... at least, I thought it was me. So angered by this act, I signed up to become a Riskbreaker, the elite crack troops of the VKP. Nothing left to live for, I didn't care whether I lived or died. In a way, all I did want was death but I always seemed to evade it. And five years later, there was a raid on Duke Bardorba's mansion. I was sent in and inside I found one Sydney Losstarot, the leader of the religious cult Müllenkamp. We fought and I shot a bolt into his chest, killing him on the spot. Or at least, I thought I had killed him. Instead, he was far from dead and he summoned a Wyvern, a kind of guardian wyrm. I fought and defeated it easily but Sydney had escaped to Leá Monde. Naturally, I followed as was my duty as a Riskbreaker.

"Inside I found magic, or grimoires as they're called, at work. Sydney lead me on, further and further into Leá Monde in some kind of twisted game. However, something happened to me. I started 'remembering' killing techniques from my past... techniques I swore I had never learnt in the first place. And then I was into Leá Monde for real, out of the cellars and into the city itself. The Knights of the Blood were there as you already know, headed by the ice-cold Romeo Guildenstern. From there, it all went downhill. The monsters I had to fight; beasts, zombies, ghosts and humans alike, all of the way, learning more and more grimoires and special fighting techniques. And then I learnt my gift, as brought upon me by the wellspring we called Leá Monde. I was a heart-seer: I tuned into the hearts of others and saw through their eyes, heard what they heard, saw what they saw. Slowly, an image of what was going on was filling my head but none of it made any sense. And then I met up with Sydney again.

"We fought side by side to defeat one of the Crimson Blades generals, one that went by the name of Grissom. He had used the dark side to summon a... spirit of sorts to fight with him. Together we defeated them and then Sydney revealed something to me. He showed me a different version of my past...

"A mother and child sat underneath a big green tree in a big green field. It was a beautiful day, the sun high in the sky and the woman, the most beautiful woman in the world, goes to get some water from a nearby river. The son is left sitting on the red-and-white chequered picnic cloth, when he hears a cry out loud. He turns around and sees two strangers near his mother, one of them plunging his sword through her chest, blood billowing out across her white robe. Sitting there dumbly, the child stays right where he is while a crossbow bolt flies towards him, hitting him straight in the chest. The two men walk over to them, one of them half-paralysed in the shock of what they had done. One of them was called Jan Rosencrantz, a VKP trooper. The other was me, his Lieutenant. I had just murdered two innocent people, the very people I had pledged to protect with my life. I was nothing better than those I sought to capture or if the needs be, kill.

"I refused to believe this version of truth that Sydney had given me, believing still that my wife and child had been murdered by vagabonds... and then I met with Rosencrantz, the man who had been with me when I killed them. He confirmed the story, but I'm still not too sure whether I can believe what he said. He told me that the VKP had been unwilling to lose their best agent, and put me under an extreme course of brain-washing, turning me into the cold man you met at Duke Bardorba's manor. He told me that they had altered my memories and used my deep-seated hatred of breaking the law to turn me into the greatest agent they ever had.

"Eventually, my chase led me to the Cathedral at the centre of Leá Monde, the very centre of all the 'evil'. And there the truth was revealed... we had it wrong the whole time. Sydney wasn't trying to claim the powers of Leá Monde, he already had them! Instead, he was protecting them the only way he knew how. He had tired of immortality and wished to pass on his powers but he didn't know who he could trust with the immense responsibility. Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, even the Cardinal wanted the power for themselves but all of them would have misused it. The Cardinal wasn't on the scene and Rosencrantz was already dead, by the hands of a possessed statue of Kali. That left Guildenstern... what he did to Sydney was horrific. He skinned his back, removing the Blood Sin, the key to Leá Monde's power and placed it upon his. Sydney had already made up his mind on who was to be his successor: me.

"I reached the rooftop of the cathedral as Guildenstern reached his ascension, the terrific power of Leá Monde coursing through his veins. We fought and he lost; he died on that rooftop and the power moved onto me and so here we are now. Three days after the fall of Leá Monde, we are reunited in this hovel that I call home... at least for now it is, not that I'll be needing a home for long."

A silence descended upon the room, the air thick with unspoken words as the two stared at each other, neither moving nor uttering a single thing. Finally... it was broken by a reluctant Callo Merlose: "What now?"

"Now... I am cursed with immortality... I cannot die and as such, I am limited to living in constant fear. How long until someone comes after me to take the power of Leá Monde? How long until everyone I ever knew is long under the ground? How long until I can rest easy? Now I understand why Sydney wished to give that power up... I want to as well and there's only one way of doing it... I must die and remove this taint from my body."

"But how do you kill someone who's immortal?"

"I have the power of Leá Monde... I can do anything I wish to and that includes dying, but I can't just kill myself yet, I have to prevent the power being passed on. That means anyone who has taken a power from the wellspring must die..."

"B... but I--" The blood drained from Callo Merlose's face as she realised just what the killer sat across from her had said. "You intend to kill me?"

"I... I don't know... how can I kill innocents? How can I betray what I've fought for as long as I can remember? But this existence is pitiful... I can never love again, anyone I did love would die while I remained eternally young. Any children I had could possibly carry the taint and how can I guarantee that they would only use it for good and not evil? Life is meaningless for me now... all I can hope for is an end." Ashley grunted in pain as the Blood Sin flared up again, all of the nerves in his body on fire once again.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing... it just happens every now and then..." he grunted in reply.

After a pause, the Inquisitor asked the question again: "So what now?"

"Now you go and leave me to contemplate what to do... if I need to find you, be assured, I will find you." Rising to his feet, he opened the door and watched as Callo walked through it. As he started to close it, her foot came back into the doorway, stopping it from shutting. Opening the door wide, he stared her in the face.

"One last thing Agent Riot, the VKP know of you and want your powers for their gain... be careful."

"Thank you for your concern Inquisitor Merlose... now get the hell out of here!"

Slamming the door shut, Ashley strode back to his chair, sitting himself down before the fire, staring at the flickering flames, their life drawing him deep inside...


	6. Stain Of Manhood

**Chapter Five - Stain of Manhood**

Uhm, this chapter contains a rape scene; it's far from explicit, but still, I'm giving you warning in case you want to skip this one.

* * *

Grand Stewart Le Sait was not a happy bunny, far from it. Reports had come in from his spies that Riot had been seen with that damned Inquisitor. They'd been too damned good with the training of that one, she questioned everything, including him and his motives... A nervous tic pulled the left side of his moustache upwards but he didn't notice it, or rather, he chose not to notice it. As many others in high positions of power such as he; their flaws become magnified and the suppression of these 'hiccups' was vital to keep respect and dignity. But when you have as much power as Le Sait did, why suppress yourself when you can suppress everyone else? Indeed, that was the Grand Stewarts solution to practically everything, though since the downscaling of the VKP operations and more specifically their visible violence, it had become more difficult to do. Now, all problems had to be kept hush-hush and when people went 'missing mysteriously', others would ask questions. This wasn't the VKP he had joined in his youth; no, it had evolved into a far more graceful yet paranoid beast.

He needed to know what Callo Merlose had told the Riskbreaker and whether she was now a threat to the operation, but how to get it? Torture was out of the question since the reformations and he'd always enjoyed that part of his job back when he was an inquisitor. Besides, Callo had gained a bit of status after returning alive from Leá Monde after 'rescuing' the Duke's son. Her disappearance would be to public in the workplace and chances were it would be traced back to him and then all hell would break loose. Hypnosis? He'd always looked down on the mystical mumbo-jumbo that some of his colleagues preferred but he grudgingly admitted that it did work occasionally. Maybe it was worth a try, but again it would require an absence, which had already been deemed impossible. No, a spy was the way to go, a close friend that could worm the truth out of her... but there was the problem. What friends? Inquisitor Callo Merlose was fresh faced in the VKP since she had only been a full agent for three months. Also, she had little battle experience which was the normal medium of bonding here. But there was a way to get someone in close... most definitely a way...

Le Sait snatched his official notepad, the cover embossed with the VKP symbol, and opened it up. Scribbling furiously, he wrote and signed the note, folding it up and putting it into an envelope. Reaching over, he took a knob of wax and a lit candle. Slowly, he melted the wax, letting it drip onto the envelope, sealing it. He virtually tore off the button on his lapel and pushed it into the liquid wax, imprinting it as a letter from the Grand Stewart. Laboriously printing a name on the front of the envelope, he slipped it into a tube. Closing the lid on the tube, he pushed it into the pipe that sent it to his secretary outside. He didn't know quite how the system worked but he had made sure that it contained no magic at all. No, he didn't want that loathsome desecration of the soul anywhere near his office, his true home. He hated using it even more but he recognised it as a useful tool in the right hands, but every time he issued forth some magical power, it felt like he slowly slipped further and further away from his real self. He knew it was addictive, that it could destroy and totally rebuild a persons psyche, just like that...

Outside the office, the tube took off from the secretary's desk as it left the pipe, sailing through the air and crashing into the ceiling, leaving yet another mark on the paintwork. As it fell down, she simply reached out her hand while sipping a cup of tea and it fell into her hand. It was obvious to see that she was now used to capsules flinging themselves across her office... Nimbly flipping the lid off, she shook it until the envelope slid out. Looking at the name on the front, she arched an eyebrow in surprise. _A letter from the Grand Stewart to them? I thought they had been disgraced..._ Shaking her head, she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out an arched sign reading 'Away On Business' and placed it on her desk. All letters from the Grand Stewart were to be hand-delivered by herself. Maybe he was just paranoid but with the shady past of the Valendian Knights of the Peace, she wouldn't be surprised if someone would try to intercept his mail. It was a shame that the 'foolproof' system was fatally flawed: someone had already read the note...

Twenty minutes later it had been delivered directly into the hands of the person named on the envelope and she felt a whole lot better about herself; mission accomplished without a hitch. Admittedly, it was a small and rather minor mission but it was still a special task that had been set by the Grand Stewart of the VKP. A small thrill ran through her body as she thought of how she may have saved the day by delivering that letter, not realising that the letter in question may have just doomed it instead...

* * *

_So full of despair and apathy... and hatred of what he may be... and now he's considering martyring himself and me..._

For what seemed like the millionth time that day, Callo Merlose's thoughts drifted to the keeper of Leá Monde. Not that there was anything better to do. All the current cases had already been handed out while she was there and now she was excluded from them. She was supposed to be tracking Ashley down but she was conflicted in that region. If he truly did intend to kill innocents then surely he should be stopped? But in their murder, countless millions would be saved... should she hand him over to be 'trained' and allow the VKP to gain supremacy in Valendia to save a few that may well lose their lives then? It was her duty to the people to stop that, she knew it in her heart and soul. That was why she had joined the VKP, to protect and serve. A high-minded and noble ideal sadly lost on much of the world. No, their motto was divide and conquer, or to put it in the words of one rioter: "Fuck you, fuck the VKP and fuck the parliament! I live for me and me only!" Humanity was probably a lost cause but she was determined that they would go down fighting... or not as the case may be.

No, she had to stop the council from getting access to Riskbreaker Riot but could she just stand idly by and watch him murder the innocent, including herself? No, but there was a third possibility...

Lost in thought over Ashley Riot for the millionth-and-first time that day, she didn't notice the figure loom over her desk. A polite cough caught her attention and she looked up, meeting the strangers eyes. That was something she always did; the eyes are the window of the soul they say but she was damned if she could see anything in them, but you never know... The eyes were blue-grey, complimenting the slightly drawn-out face of the figure before her: Inquisitor Dejamir Kalijan. His brown hair fell down to his shoulders normally but today he had it pulled back into a ponytail and unusually, his beard and moustache were neatly trimmed. It was obvious he'd had a big meeting today; otherwise his normal slightly dishevelled look would be on display.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly in the presence of Kalijan. He was a fairly big name in the department, some of his work now being reading material for trainees, not that he'd brag about it, that just wasn't his style... which is a misnomer when applied to Dejamir. Style was the very thing he railed against as could be seen in his attire: baggy black trousers, a white short-sleeved shirt with a black long-sleeved t-shirt underneath and a tie. Not exactly conventional dress but it didn't matter to him.

"Uhh... I was wondering if I could ask you something... err... somewhere a little bit more private."

Callo arched an eyebrow at the legend before her. _Shyness? From him!_ "Sure... we'll use the office over there," she said, pointing across the room to an unused room.

Quickly shuffling some papers and slipping them into her desk, she got up and followed Dejamir into the abandoned room. "So, what did you want to ask me that needed us to be alone?"

Silence ensued, filled only with the embarrassed blushing from the male. "Will you go out with me?" he blurted out.

More silence.  
Dejamir fiddling with his fingers.  
A soft sigh emerging from Callo's lips.  
The creaking of a chair as a load was borne upon it.

"It's not that I don't like you as a person Dejamir but..." she started from her seated position, looking down at the floor.

"Aww shit... I know where this is going..."

"I don't think you really do Dej... so if I may continue?" A listless nod from her counterpart. "It's not that I don't like you as a person, it's that I'm not attracted to men. I'm a lesbian."

Even more silence.  
Severe bouts of blushing.  
A short snort as laughter is cut off.  
Quiet sniggering followed by full-blown laughing.

The two dissolved into a fit of laughter, Kalijan leading the way. In between sniggering fits and trying to catch his breath back, Dejamir managed to say something; "Trust me to ask out the friggin' dyke!"

A flying fist.  
Pain blossoming.  
Staggering backwards.   
Blood slowly dripping to the floor.

"Never... ever... call me a dyke again Inquisitor Kalijan," her voice now as hard as stone.

"Sorry?" came a slightly confused and muffled reply from the floor, where Dejamir Kalijan clutched his broken nose. "It's not like I know a lot of lesbians... I'm sorry if I offended you."

Another sigh came from Callo as she shook her head. "No, don't apologise. I'm... just a little touchy about being called that since my trainee days..."

"What happened?"

Silence.

"Sorry... that was kinda personal. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to Merlose, but talking about these things help, even if they hurt in the short run. Trust me, this is something I know about..."

Silence.  
A third sigh.  
A hesitant breath.  
The divulgence of a long-held secret.

"It was at the training camp. As you know, they're segregated into male and female for the first half of the training. I was already aware of my sexuality and being surrounded by several women like me was bound to cause problems among the homophobic ones."

"So they found out and taunted you? Beatings and the like?" Dej questioned in the manner associated with being a VKP Inquisitor.

"No... it wasn't the others... I'd started a relationship with one of the other trainees when one of the instructors found out about it. Alex Drummond." Dejamir winced as he recognised the name... he was known to be especially hard on the trainees. He couldn't remember what Drummond was doing now, he seemed to remember hearing a story about him being murdered but he wasn't sure. Ignoring the faces her male counterpart was pulling, Merlose continued, "He'd had a small infatuation with me from the start but when he found out the truth about me, it piqued his interest..."

In her mind, she was walking over the field again, after a secret night of passion out in the forest with her lover...

**/8\**

_A shadow emerged before her. As he stepped forward into the light, she recognised him as one of her instructors._

_"What are you doing out here after curfew Miss Merlose?" his voice lined with authoritarian strictness._

_Fear._

_"I... uhh..." Callo stumbled for an excuse but came up dry._

_"Don't bother coming up with an excuse, I know what you were doing."_

_Fear.  
Panic._

_"We can't allow a dyke into the VKP. It seems to me like a man is going to have to straighten you out... namely me."_

_Fear.  
Panic.  
Hatred._

_"Uhh... no thanks sir."_

_"Is that a refusal?"_

_"Yessir, it is." Stand up to him. You will not allow this to continue! Act like the VKP agent you want to be! "If that's it sir, I'll be heading back to my bed and getting some sleep." As she strode past him, he reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop._

_"Where the hell do you think you're going!"_

_Fear.  
Panic.  
Hatred.  
Disgust._

_"Get off me!" she squealed, a mixture of emotions bubbling up through her blood. When she realised it wasn't going to happen, she opened her mouth and took a deep breath full of air and then began to scream._

_Panicking at her unexpected response, Drummond slammed his fist into the side of her head, knocking her from her feet. The last thing she remembered was seeing the rock rushing towards her head..._

_Pain.  
Darkness.  
Nothingness..._

_Some time later she came to, feeling a little woozy. Looking around, she didn't recognise where she was. As she tried to get up, she found her hands and feet bound by rope to four iron loops firmly sunk into the floor. She tried to scream again but found her mouth was gagged._

_Fear._

_Her eyes shot around the room desperately, looking for some source of help. Instead, her eyes fixed on something moving in a dark corner. Something steel..._

_Fear.  
Panic._

_As her eyes became accustomed to the dim lighting of the room, she froze as she saw what was in the corner. Alex Drummond._

_Fear.  
Panic.  
Hatred._

_Then she realised he was naked and fondling himself, his erect penis twitching nervously as his hand played across it._

_Fear.  
Panic.  
Hatred.  
Disgust._

_Slowly he rose from his seated position and walked over to her, his left hand holding himself and his right holding a steel sword. Slowly, he ran the tip of the sword across her body, it's edge tearing her clothes and occasionally nicking her skin. When he was satisfied he was done, he threw the sword aside and ripped her clothes from her body. Indignation lit up in Callo's eyes, unbelieving that this was actually happening to her._

_Fear.  
Panic.  
Hatred.  
Disgust.  
Loathing._

_Slowly but surely he lowered himself onto her so he straddled her waist. He leant over and tried to place a tender kiss on her lips, but she threw her head to the side. With a quick swing, he slapped her across the face, his whole body quivering with anger. _

_"You just can't let me have it dyke, can you? You won't let me have it? Well, that's don't matter... I'm gonna have you dyke, whether you like it or not, and by the end of the night, you'll be screaming my name, just you wait dyke."_

_He rearranged his legs so that they were now between hers. She could feel his engorged phallus pressing against the firm flesh of her belly. She struggled against her bonds but that only seemed to make the ropes cut into her wrists that little bit more. She thrashed about as hard as she could, trying to dislodge him from her but to no avail. Instead, it only excited him further. His lips worked over her body as he groped at her breasts. The first small whimper emerged from Merlose's lips, only to be muffled by the gag. The first of many to come..._

_Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing._

_He took her jaw in his hand and raised himself above her, forcing her to look into his eyes. She could see the lust coursing through his eyes and knew that there was no way out of this for her. She was doomed to whatever fate he held in store for her. Slowly, he guided himself in with his other hand and she felt the unclean item enter her. She could feel her vaginal walls clamp down onto it and she was shocked and ashamed at her body's natural reaction._

_"You like that dyke, don't you? You know you do dyke!"_

_Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing. Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing._

_Slowly at first, he ground his hips against hers, forcing himself deeper inside her. There was nothing she could do to stop him so she just gave in, lying their as limp as a ragdoll._

_Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing. Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing. Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing. Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing._

_Building up momentum, his thrusts became more and more violent, his fingers digging painfully into the flesh just above her hips. Sweat and saliva dripped from him onto her, each droplet tainting her just that one little bit further. She felt a feeling start to swell inside of her stomach and realising what it was, she fought against it heart and soul._

_With every thrust inside of her, he cried out the same word; each time it cut just that bit deeper into her psyche, forever tarnishing her, to be indelibly painted across her mind._

_"DYKE!" Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing.   
"DYKE!" Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing.   
"DYKE!" Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing.   
"DYKE!" Fear. Panic. Hatred. Disgust. Loathing._

_He spasmed inside of her, and she felt him erupt into her, screaming out the word at the same time exquisite pain exploded throughout every vein in her body._

_"DYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYKE!"_

_Fearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfe   
arpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfear   
panichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpa   
nichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanic   
hatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanicha   
treddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatre   
ddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathingfearpanichatredd   
isgustloathingfearpanichatreddisgustloathing..._

_Fear of the man collapsed atop of her, panting heavily._

_Panic because of the act performed on her._

_Hatred of what had been done._

_Disgust of what she had done to herself._

_Loathing of the word eternally carved into her mind; her taint._

_Nothingness. Nothingness. Nothingness. Nothi--ngne--ss. No--t--h--i..._

**\8/**

The tears wouldn't stop for Callo as she sat there. Her body was torn by her emotions as they exploded throughout her, beyond her control. Gently, Dejamir held her to him as she buried her head in his shoulder, a river of pain flowing from her eyes. Slowly he rocked her back and forth while quietly whispering.

"I'm so sorry... so sorry... I shouldn't have made you tell me... I'm so sorry..."


	7. Passions Igniting

**Chapter Six - Passions Igniting**

She looked through the peephole into the room; the same room she had watched Inquisitors Merlose and Kalijan in the previous day. What had been said in there? What on earth went on in there yesterday? From her vantage point, she had managed to see things going on in there but they were too far away for her to hear anything properly. All she knew was that she had to act and act soon. She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand as dust particles drifted down in the enclosed space, each one seemingly homing in on her nostrils. She hated this job but it was necessary. Necessary to what she was unsure of yet but she knew it had to be important. Sondra Felsham watched and waited. That was what she did. It was a boring job yet at the same time, it was exhilarating. Listening to people talk, watching their movements; it excited the voyeuristic side of her personality. It was said that the VKP attracted the most perverse of people and you need look no further than Observer Felsham for proof of that. There was nothing she didn't know about her subject; she even watched Callo sleep. She closed her eyes and saw her; every single part of her image matched that of the real Inquisitor Merlose... shaking her head clear of the imagined reality, she knew it was time. Slowly she inched through the wall cavity, making her way towards the hatchway into the tunnel systems that ran underneath the entire city of Valein.

The first thing that hit her when she opened the trapdoor was the stench. She was glad that it quickly became tolerable to the human nose or else she'd develop a complex trying to get rid of the smell from her clothes and skin. It quickly permeated her, staining her completely, soaking her in the ambience of the tunnels. She was coming...

* * *

When presented with a wild-eyed woman who absolutely stank, most people would instantly look down on them but not Callo Merlose for she knew this woman despite not having seen her for years. For the second time in as many days she was dragged back to that night; one of the three days that would shape the rest of her life.

"Sondra." It escaped her lips like a hiss, shock staggering its way through her soul.

"We have to talk. It's important."

Callo took in their surroundings, the bright sunlight burning around them as the everyday bustle filled the street. As people walked past the pair, the stench coming from Sondra drew their attention, something neither of them wanted at this moment in time.

"We'll go to my place, you can get cleaned up there."

Showing consent with a nod, Sondra let herself be led the way in silence, mentally noting down the route they were taking by instinct, as was her job. Watch and observe; learn about your subject, every single detail was vital to the cause.

After a few minutes walking, they reached the front door of Inquisitor Merlose's apartment. Fumbling in her pockets, Callo drew out a key and slid it into the lock, twisting it and hearing the click as the door unlocked. Pushing the door open, she strode through and pocketed the key again. As the door closed behind Sondra, Callo turned to her, their lips meeting, long-sealed passions erupting again. Lip-locked, the pair stumbled into the bedroom, lying down on the bed, collapsing into each other...

* * *

Dejamir sat at his desk, shuffling paper as he thought of Callo. He felt so much pain for her; he shared her agony over hat had happened that night. His heart wept as he thought of that animal doing such things to her. What was this he was feeling for her? _Sorrow? Pity? Love? What's becoming of me?_

* * *

They lay there in the bed, both staring up at the ceiling, hands interlocked as wild thoughts ran through both of their heads. Breaking the bond between them, Sondra rolled on her side, propping her head up with an elbow as she smiled at Callo. "It's been quite a while since I've done that," she said with a grin plastered across her face.

Merlose only grimaced in reply, remembering the last time she had had an orgasm... Sondra noticed and frowned to herself. Gently stroking Callo's face with her free hand, her fingers lingered over her full lips. Slowly, she leaned over, leaving a soft, gentle kiss there. "Don't worry, I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere..."

"So what is it you need to tell me?" the Inquisitor asked, no emotion in her voice.

Sondra Felsham froze for a moment, and then swung herself around, her back to Callo as she scrabbled for her clothes. "Don't trust him Callo. You can't afford to trust him or you will die."

"Who? Ashley!" _How could she know about his threat?_

"No, Dejamir. He's a Pretender," came the reply as Sondra pulled the shorts up her legs and zipped them up, sealing the button.

The Inquisitor froze at the mention of the myth. Pretenders were the spies, the undercover men of the VKP. They had gained the name due to an attempted uprising against the board, a coup against the rulers of the VKP. They were the "pretenders" to the crown, the most feared of the VKP branches for they learned things and had secrets on everyone. There was nothing they couldn't get their hands on by twisting a few arms. They had been disbanded after the coup failed or at least, they were supposed to be. As in all sub-societies there were urban legends and the Pretenders were the VKP's urban legend.

"No... no, he can't be! He's a bloody legend. You know what he's done as well as I d--" Callo stopped as she realised she wasn't even sure that Sondra was in the VKP or what her real purpose here was. "What makes you think he's a Pretender? Hell, what makes you think that they even exist anymore?" _Where there's smoke there's fire._

"I'm an observer, it's my job to know these things." Pulling out a wallet, she turned around and threw it to Merlose who caught it and flipped it open. As Sondra had said, the ID identified her as a VKP Observer, and a highly ranked one at that. Grudgingly, she threw it back, Sondra catching it and slipping it back into her pocket in one fluid motion before she picked up her T-shirt and pulled it over her head.

"What the hell is going on?"

"The Grand Stewart doesn't trust you. He thinks you've sided with Riskbreaker Riot and that's a big threat to the board's plans. He wants someone to get close to you so he can find out what you're going to do next and where your true allegiances lie, and so, Dejamir Kalijan, the great VKP legend, the last person you'd suspect of being such a person, was assigned to gain your confidence and find out everything you know."

"And you? What are you doing here if not exactly the same thing?"

Sondra shot Callo a look filled with pain and sorrow and Merlose instantly felt sorry for saying it. "Is that what you really think of me? There was a time when you would have said you loved me and trusted me with every single secret, but now, you think that of me? This was a mistake, I should never have come back here." Standing up, she made to leave but found her hand caught firmly in the Inquisitors grasp.

"I... I'm sorry. I just don't know what to think anymore... please forgive me Sunny?" she pleaded, resorting to using her old nickname for the Observer.

Sondra's shoulders slumped as she knew she couldn't resist her. This was the woman she loved for years, the woman who stole her heart and had seemingly thrown it away. How could she stay mad at her? Simply put, she couldn't... Turning around, she leaned over and kissed Merlose again, a long, drawn out passionate kiss as they wrapped their arms around each other, pressing their bodies tightly together...

* * *

A simple tune ran through his head as he stalked the streets at night, the simple beat matching his cadence. _Step... two... three... step... two... three... step... two... three..._ Slowly the tune escaped his lips in an eerie whisper, the sound bouncing from cobblestones and bricks in the gloom of the night as a grin split his face asunder. Spinning on his toes, his trenchcoat whirled around him as he stepped onwards. Now his fingers were clicking, matching the hollow sound of his boots upon the hard street. And then he stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly it dawned on him. He was happy. How? Why? The answers escaped him, leaving him with just the fact he was happy. He might even go as far to say he gloriously happy. When was the last time he whistled or even danced if you could call it that. Shaking his head in disbelief of his foolish antics, he continued onwards through the gloom but it seemed to slide from him, his path glimmering in the foggy night. He felt it with him now, not just being something that was there; it was a part of him now.

And he stopped again, the fog lifting from his mind, if not the streets. He was slowly slipping and it was consuming him bit by bit. It had almost had him but his vigilance was now restored... for the moment. As soon as he tried to be normal he risked everything. He could never be human again. Neither condensation nor perspiration stuck to him; nay, he was exempt from these petty things but how he craved them. Everything seemed so much less real to him since that day...

And that was the moment a decision was made, he couldn't do it any longer. He was already fading fast. Sydney's choice hadn't been a good one. Ashley couldn't keep the power under control and it was only a matter of time until its incendiary nature came forth in destruction. No, he had made up his mind and this was how it would be...


	8. The Light Of Death

**Chapter Seven - The Light of Death**

Since his manor had received extensive fire damage in the siege by Müllenkamp, Duke Bardorba had been staying in his townhouse though even that was inaccurate. He had been staying in his bed inside the townhouse. His health was rapidly declining and many thought he should already be dead, let alone within the week the doctor had given him but he tenaciously clung onto life with both hands, struggling to stay alive as long as he could. Not that it really mattered, there was only one other person in the family to keep the name alive and he was far too young to bear the title and the Duke would never live to see him a grown man. So why did he still cling to life so vehemently? The answer was simple if not confusing to those who didn't know what was going on...

A hesitant cough came from the corner of his chamber as a guard shuffled his way in slowly, trying to minimise the clanking sounds that came from his armour in a bid to not aggravate the Duke.

"What is it?" the Duke barked, his voice sounding far too dry.

"Sir, a man is waiting outside, demanding to talk to you."

"Well, send him up then!"

"Uhm sir, he has a rather large sword with him and doesn't look to be too happy."

"It's alright Guardsman Stryker, I know who he is so please show him up, completely unmolested and with his weapon. I asked him to bring it to me so do not worry about it," his words clipped and precise despite the pain in his bowels.

"Aye sir." Clapping his fist to his heart in a salute, the guard strode from the room, forgetting to keep his armour quiet this time. The sound reverberated in the Duke's ears as he winced. Lying in his bed where he had been since the Leá Monde incident, his thoughts drifted to his oldest son once again. _It's a shame it had to be this way Sydney. I loved you with all my heart as I love Joseph... why did it have to be you? Why did you have to take the power of Leá Monde? Why did you have to be taken away from me... and for me then to have to kill you... I can't live with this pain..._

Duke Bardorba's attention shifted as he saw the figure in the black trenchcoat float through the door into his room.

"I've been expecting you Riskbreaker Riot. Please, take a seat." He watched as Ashley plumped himself down into a chair that had been prepared for him.

"I presume you're here to kill me?"

A nod.

"Indeed, as I suspected, but there are matters we must talk of first."

A nod.  
An arched eyebrow.

"It was foretold by the high-priestess Müllenkamp that there would come one who bore the five-bladed sword from the ruins of Leá Monde and that he would be the final master of its powers. You are this person Ashley Riot, you are the final master of Leá Monde, the final protector of its powers. What you are to do has already been predicted; you are to murder a few in an effort to protect millions of innocents. I do not guarantee that the Gods will look upon this well but I agree that it is what must be done However, the task is not as easy as you may think Ashley. There are important predicates that you must follow: You can only kill the three on the Sabbath such as today. You can only kill one of the three per Sabbath. You must kill yourself on the day that you kill the third of the three. You must follow these rules or disaster will strike and our deaths will be for naught."

A nod.  
An arched eyebrow.  
Rising from his seated position.

"Pass the sword to me please." As the blood sword was unsheathed, candlelight reflected from it giving it an eerie glow. "As you can see, there is Kildean script upon each of the five blades and the handle." As he traced his fingers across the archaic runes, he translated them softly, "Perpetuation: the torment that you have been given. Perdition: that which you seek. Blessing: the power to save the lives of so many. Curse: the weight of the task before you. Slave: the power of Leá Monde. Master: he who controls it. These are all intricately linked to you and the deeds you must commit. But that is neither here nor there for it is now my time." Feeling his worn out muscles strain as he lifted the sword again, he handed it back to the Riskbreaker who loomed over him.

As Agent Riot held the blade aloft, Duke Bardorba merely shook his head. "I have a final request for you Ashley. Could you slide back that panel over there?" he said as he stretched out his arm, his trembling finger pointing to the opposite wall. Ashley strode over and instinctively found the right panel, pressing his palm against the wood and slid it to the side revealing a hidden compartment. Inside was a simple knife; the blade made of the rare material Damascus. Ashley instinctively recognised it as the weapon that Duke Bardorba had used to end the life of his son, Sydney Losstarot. The Riskbreaker also realised why the duke had pointed him towards it. He too wished to die by its blade, to share the same fate of his eldest child. This simple blade of sacrifice would see the end of another life to ease the world's burden, to see blood wash away the pain of existence...

His palms felt slick as they clutched onto the wooden handle, sweat dripping from his brow. He knew this must be done, it had been prophesised... but this was the death of an innocent. The Duke had done no wrong against the people, instead, he protected them in coordination with his son Sydney. Could he really end the life of someone who had done so much good?

Ashley wiped all thoughts from his mind, instead concentrating on what he had to do. Death; that was all he was good for, all he could do. Happiness and joy had eluded him and the Reaper awaited him with bated breath and a final embrace. He didn't even notice as his arms arced down in unison, the blade plunging deep into the old mans chest, blood bubbling through his lips... Ashley walked from the room, the knife still clutched tightly in his right hand. He couldn't see the blood streaked across his bare chest, his vision was pure white, everything was dead as far as he cared. He never saw the guards look at him and run into the bedchamber he'd just left. He never heard their cries or the sound of their footsteps pounding after him for he was already gone, disappeared into nothingness...


	9. Portents Of Release

**Chapter Eight - Portents of Release**

Happiness met her when she woke, her eyes wrinkling up into little smiles of their own without even opening. Still not believing it, she rolled over and opened them but the other occupant of the bed was gone. Reality smacked her about the face with a two-by-four as it dawned on her what she had done. Yeah, the sex had been good but was it really worth the consequences? The eyes now contained pain; the twinkle had evaporated from them like vapour in the heat. Slowly she curled into a tightly wrapped ball, sheets clutched tightly between her fists in frustration. Tempting the fates was no way to live your life, let alone ending a night. Pain blossomed in her belly as something pressed against her stomach lining. Throwing back the sheets, she stared in horror as she watched a protrusion; still engorged by her flesh, push forth from her centre. Slowly it withdrew but came back after a few seconds. Fire burned through her veins as it pushed even harder: something was fighting to get out. Panic enveloped her as she desperately tried to push the moving lump back inside of her but metal claws grabbed her right hand and a hand made of flesh grabbed her left, pulling them away from her belly to either side of her head. Her eyes met those of the two who were holding her arms: Sydney Losstarot and Romeo Guildenstern. Hands grabbed her legs as they tried to kick away, this time belonging to Duke Bardorba and Jon Hardin. The four dead men, each inextricably linked to Leá Monde, held her down firmly as she thrashed against them and the ever-growing agony from her womb. The protrusion receded but she knew it wasn't over; foreboding swamped her mind as she knew what ever it was, it was coming now. And so it did; the Blades of Sin, the Blood Sword, erupted through her chest; the main blade pushing straight up as the diagonal blades slashed her in half. Still conscious, she saw the face of the fifth man as it rose through the gap between her chest and her legs: Ashley Riot, his eyes closed and grin macabre. Removing one hand from the hilt, he pointed it to her, her blood dripping from his outstretched fingers as he mouthed two silent words.

"You're next," were the first words Callo Merlose said when she sat bolt upright in her bed, emerging from the nightmare with her mind totally clear.

"Mmmgh?" came a sound from beside her, buried underneath the covers.

Throwing back the covers, Callo saw Sondra Felsham curled up like a cat resting by the hearth.

"Nothing to worry about Sunny, nothing at all." The lie rolled from her lips far easier than she expected it to but her eyes couldn't hide it as the Observer noticed, the pupils were like pinpricks and the irises contained only one thing: death. It was this that would haunt Sondra for the rest of her life... what she had left of it.

* * *

Sunshine shone through the window but it shunned him, silently slinking away from his body. No, it was too good for the likes of him. He was a murderer for the first time since his reawakening. Ashley Riot sat slumped in the chair that he had been in all night since leaving the Duke's townhouse. He had held that knife in his hands and plunged it into the old mans chest, bringing his life to an end. He had killed someone in cold blood and it wasn't even in the service of his country or by a ghastly accident, it had been done for his own intentions and now he was haunted by Bardorba's words: it had been foretold... Prophecy, it was all dictated and written but wasn't set in stone. He needed to adhere to the path laid before him or the whole world would face the consequences and it wasn't a road that Agent Riot wanted to tread. All he could hope for was the next two weeks to pass as quickly as possible and with him thinking as little as he could. He needed something to distract himself from the deeds in his past and those still ahead of him...

* * *

Several hours later, Grand Stewart Le Sait was still contemplating the meeting he had had earlier with the Pretender. Troubling news indeed, it was verified that Inquisitor Merlose was indeed helping the ex-Riskbreaker and so by all accounts, she was a mole, a thorn in his side and a threat to his plans. As long as she lived, Ashley Riot would have a constant stream of information of the VKP's movements and that was simply unacceptable... but how to remove her? The Pretender could do it but then there was a chance of their exposure and that was also out of the question. He could hire outside of the VKP but that was dodgy at best so that left only one real option. They wouldn't kill her, she would kill herself... 


	10. Just Another Day At The Office

**Chapter Nine - Just Another Day at the Office**

Days had passed since their meeting and he was still jittery. He had made contact with him and was still in one piece. May the light continue protecting him for what he knew he must do would require all the skill and luck he could muster if he was to emerge from it in one piece. But damn that Riot fellow was quick... Just thinking about the ex-Riskbreaker made him shiver... whether through fear or anticipation he couldn't decide but it didn't really matter. Kill Callo Merlose. That's all he had to do. Quite why he was supposed to he didn't know but again, it didn't really matter. Nothing else matters - her impending death was the sole item on his agenda.

Movement caught his attention and he reflexively snatched his crossbow from where it rested in his lap and aimed it at the source. Only a pigeon, but this one had something attached to its left leg. He gracefully stalked across the room, his free arm darting out and grabbing the pigeon by its neck. Placing the crossbow in the crook of his arm, he removed the message and read it carefully, whispering it silently to himself over and over.

_The Day of Thunder will be your last chance..._

With a grim smile, Regnak snapped the pigeon's neck, idly tossing its corpse back through the window from whence it came. So his mysterious benefactor had contacted him again, the very same person who had sent him down this path in the first place...

* * *

She sat at her desk again, her eyes surreptitiously looking at everything and everyone around her, especially him. Whenever she saw him, she visibly shrank in her chair, trying to evade him completely. Callo Merlose was a nervous wreck for she knew her time was growing shorter by each and every second. She was to be next and she knew he couldn't be stopped. Then there was the Dejamir problem to deal with as well: was he a Pretender sent to get information from her? Could he be trusted at all? And finally there was Sondra... why had she chosen this moment to waltz back into her life? And why try and turn her against Dejamir? Was she the true Pretender? Non-stop questions buzzed around inside her head, questions that could not be answered until too late...

* * *

_Maybe she's regretting telling me about herself_, he thought as he noticed Callo's reaction to him each time he passed her by. Entering his office, he sank into his chair, holding his head in his hands. _What have I done? Oh Lord, what have I done? Is this all I can expect from her now? Fear? Distress? That's not what I wanted at all..._

* * *

Watching as always, Sondra Felsham saw Callo's abject misery and smiled to herself. This was exactly what she wanted, Callo to be uneasy and on her guard. Protecting herself from everyone, including Sondra as well. No-one could be trusted, no-one at all. They were all threats to her safety but Sondra knew she could still get in and that was all. _Nothing else matters, just that I can still get in while others fail..._

* * *

Shuffling papers was all he ever seemed to do these days and he swore blind it was driving him crazy. Shuffling, signing and stamping, that was it apart from the occasional bouts of shouting and swearing. He was too isolated in his office, he needed, nay, craved attention and he knew just who from. Hastily scrawling a note, he sealed it in its canister and slid it into the pipe. If he had had Ashley's heightened sense of hearing, he would have heard a dark chuckle from below him, but as it was, Le Sait didn't hear a thing nor suspect it. As usual, Margaret, his secretary, came in a few seconds later. Things proceeded as they usually did but on this particular day, the Grand Stewart derived no pleasure from it. As she straddled him, her moans of 'ecstasy' getting louder and louder, he felt himself become more and more distant from it all. None of it seemed to involve him anymore. He had all the power yet he was powerless, even in this most primitive of acts. Instead, he just lay back and thought about the next batch of paperwork he had to do while awaiting reports from the Pretenders...

* * *

Tap, tap, tap went his fingers upon the bar. He sat on the stool nursing a pint as he solemnly tapped away. Despite the fact it was annoying the hell out of several people and also that this particular pub was known for some vicious brawls, no-one approached the solitary figure in the black trenchcoat. The gigantic five-bladed sword strapped across his back said all that needed to be said: Don't fuck with me.

_Plenty of time to kill, why not have a few beers?_ was the thought Ashley Riot had had earlier in the day. He grimaced as he took another sip though to be honest, he was starting to grow accustomed to the flavour. He was much more of a wine drinker really, but he was picking up a taste for ale, probably due to his immense boredom and the constant threat of danger in seedy pubs. All he really wanted was some action, something to take his mind away from the tedium of waiting, waiting for the time to kill again...

* * *

"He received the message?" As the nod came in response, the baritone voice continued, "Good, then we can expect him to continue his efforts in killing Inquisitor Merlose. This shall indeed be interesting to watch, though I wouldn't want to be caught up in the middle of it... Alright, you may go my child."

"Thanks and God bless you Cardinal, God bless you..."

He smiled as the hunchbacked man loped from the room, those last words still echoing in the Cardinals head. "When this is done, maybe I shall bless God instead..."


	11. Close and Closer

**Chapter Ten - Close and Closer**

She stared at her new orders. They had been sitting on her desk when she arrived at the office, which was odd, since she turned up at four in the morning. There was nary a soul in the building but her, yet there they were, as if they had turned up out of thin air. It was galling to read them though, that's what held her interest. She had been pulled from the case; no specific reason was given but she had her suspicions. Either way, how dare they try and foist this off on her! What had she done to deserve such an arduous duty? This was totally unbecoming of her talents yet still she had to do it. She knew what she had done - sided with the enemy, even though the enemy sought her own destruction.

Callo Merlose leant back in her chair in frustration. Three hours had passed since she had first read the orders but she still couldn't rationalise it within herself, so she had become a statue, affixed to that chair as if leaving it would strike her dead instantly. People were slowly filling the offices, even at seven in the morning. This job wasn't a nine-to-five affair, it was your life, but most managed to at least hold off this reality for their own until now. Not Callo, oh no. She had been here for three hours already when some hadn't even turned up yet. One of the 'latecomers' sat themselves at her desk, ripping her attention from the piece of paper in her hand.

"We need to talk Inquisitor Merlose."

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, all moisture running away screaming from it in fear of what she might say in response.

"Okay..." _Not so bad, not so bad... non-committal, just don't say anything stupid Callo!_

"Could we use my office? It's a bit more private in there and this is rather...uhm... delicate shall we say?"

"If you say so, Inquisitor Kalijan." She winced as soon as those words came from her mouth. So impersonal, so detached... so afraid. She rose from her seat and followed Dejamir through the snaking path, winding its way between all of the desks and offices.

With the closing of the door behind her, Callo instantaneously felt trapped, like some panicked animal desperately seeking some escape from the fearsome predator it knew was almost upon it. She felt like she'd developed a mass of veins throbbing over her temple, each one of them desperately trying to burst its way through her skin to spray across the less than pristine room.

"I... don't know how to say this really. I wish I'd never pushed you into telling me about... y'know what. I just... wanted a friend, someone I could relate to, to talk to... and now I've made you push me away..."

His words drifted away in her happiness. It was wonderful, he wasn't trying to use her, he just needed a shoulder to cry on. A friend in need is a friend indeed. He wasn't a Pretender, he couldn't be... doubt crept in again, a touch of ice freezing the hope in her mind. God only knew that she needed a friend as well, one that she could trust and no-one fell into that category, not even Sondra, her lover. Hell, the only person who she knew would be honest with her was Ashley and that held its own inherent risks, like him wanting her dead; one of those small inconveniences that life threw at you every now and then.

"...can you ever put that behind us and start from the beginning again? I just want a fresh chance at a friendship..."

Dejamir looked up from staring at his hands, trying to read the expression on Callo's face. What he saw surprised him; tears abounded from her puffy red eyes, as sobs wracked her body. _What the hell have I done to her no--_his thoughts were cut off by a fierce embrace around his waist as Callo clung to him desperately. Not really knowing what to do, he rested his hand on her back, rubbing it in what he hoped was a sympathetic manner. Truth to be told, no woman had ever really been this close to Dejamir, he kept them at distance for fear of being seen as he truly was... or at least, what he thought he truly was. A bitter lonely man who destroyed everything he came near, a compulsive liar who couldn't even admit to himself the core truth that he held in his heart. He was a traitor to everything he believed in... maybe if he had someone he could talk to it would all work itself out. Stylised or not, Inquisitor Kalijan saw a truly loving relationship as something where the couple could share anything without recrimination. Of course, he could never have that but it didn't stop him wanting it...

Finally managing to find some respite, Callo pushed away, drawing herself erect. "I... I've got some things I need to get off my chest as well but I don't know where to begin. I don't even know if I can trust you..."

"You know you can Callo, I swear not a word of this will leave this office."

"No, it's not that... I don't know who you really are Dejamir. You could be the very thing I'm afraid of and talking to you now could end up with me in worse trouble than I already am."

"Well, I don't know what help I can be if you won't talk to me. I can't do anything to prove to you that I mean what I say..."

With a sigh, Callo decided to jump straight in. She had one weapon to her advantage but she didn't want to use it too much. Each time she did, she felt herself slipping away from reality just that tiny bit further...

"Leá Monde wasn't just a place of fantasy, nor a place of nightmare though it indeed felt like both at times. It was a place of magick, of grimoires and the trapped souls of those who had died in the great earthquake. Those souls had been gathered for a reason, the passing of the legacy. Sydney Losstarot was never the enemy; in fact, he was our saviour! He already had the power of Leá Monde but wished to be rid of it so he could finally die. He chose Ashley Riot to be his successor, to keep guard of the power so that it may never be used in evil. While many may think of Sydney as having been evil, he only did what he felt necessary to keep the power safe from those who would misuse it; even if it meant the death of some innocents, Sydney knew that it would save so many more.

"Now Ashley has that power but already he falters. Maybe Sydney's choice wasn't such a good one... or maybe it was perfect. Regardless of that, I was drawn into it. The council assigned me to hunt down Riskbreaker Riot and bring him in to their custody. They never said it but I know they seek to abuse his power for their own good. I wish they had never involved me in this but I guess I was in it from when they assigned me to the Sydney Losstarot case in the first place. Leá Monde is... was a wellspring. It drew forth the natural talents that lay within us all; it brought our taints to the surface. And now Ashley wants rid of his power, he must get rid of all that have been touched by Leá Monde. That's why he killed the Duke and he's after me next...

"Then there's the whole matter about Sondra." With those words, Dejamir's heart plunged another few floors downwards; he could already tell where this was going. He wasn't that far off either. "She was the one I told you about... I knew her back then and four days ago, she waltzed back into my life, telling me I was being watched and that you were a Pretender. But I do--"

"Pretenders! HAH! You actually believed that fairy tale? They don't exist anymore, everyone knows that."

"Shows how much you know Inquisitor Kalijan," came a third voice; one unknown to Dejamir, but by Callo's reaction, he could guess who it was.

"The infamous Ashley Riot I presume? Come here to murder another innocent?"

"Murder? You could call it that I guess, but it's not why I'm here today. It's possible I'm not the only one who's out for your blood Callo and it's in my interests to keep you alive for the moment, so I intend to help you."

"What did you mean by 'shows how much you know'? What do you know about the Pretenders?" asked Callo, ignoring what was just said.

"The Pretenders never went away. They were persecuted, yes, but they were never banished. You keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. No, Pretenders are still around today, albeit under a different name."

"And that would be?"

"They're called Observers these days."


	12. Purgatory of the Soul

**Chapter Eleven - Purgatory of the Soul**

"Nonsense! Are you going to listen to this madma--" Dejamir's voice abruptly caught on the sound of the 'n' as all around, everything stood still except for two people... Ashley Riot and Callo Merlose.

"Wha... what have you done Ashley?"

"I paused time here for a short while. I can't be having with his ranting constantly if I am to look after you."

"You? Protect me!" Incredulity rang out clearly in every syllable. Shaking her head, she rested it on her right hand, her brown hair falling around her face in disharmony. _This is all just some crazy dream... none of this is happening..._ When she looked up, she saw a second Ashley Riot, standing about a meter to the originals left, half in and half out of a wall.

"_She's fading fast... will she last until the Day of Thun--_" Ashley's thoughts stopped instantaneously, both the originals and the doppelgangers chins resting on their chest.

"You're doing it again," she said, the words rising unbidden to her lips. Her focus snapped back as the grey Ashley disappeared and the real ones eyes opened. "The ability of the Heart-Seer I believe Ashley? You did that to me before in Leá Monde..."

A Heart-Seer is a person who can attune their spirit to the heartbeat of another soul, thus enabling the Heart-Seer to see what they see and hear what they hear. It was Ashley's power drawn from the Wellspring of Leá Monde, the gift that had helped him along his path to power and realisation of the true nature of the world he had fought to protect for so long.

A thought struck Merlose as Ashley just looked at her from underneath his eyebrows. _How the hell did I know what a Heart-Seer was? I've never even heard of them be--_ Her eyes widened as her ears faintly picked up words, each syllable ringing out inner turmoil and despair. And then she looked up at Ashley, their eyes meeting for a split second before she dropped to her knees, clutching her head as she screamed in agony.

Ashley crouched down beside her shaking form; the ear piercing shrieks still being emitted while her lungs contained oxygen. "I can stop the voices if you want Callo... you need not listen to their tortured truths. I can help you but I need you to let me..."

Quickly gulping in air, the screams continued as blood poured from her ears. The pain in Ashley's soul spoke to her, wrapping her up in its never-ending purgatory. _STOP! PLEASE STOP! DON'T TELL ME THESE THINGS! I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ANY MORE! STOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!_

Her last thought came out through the primeval screams she had been howling; the pure pain transmogrifying into a single word of hopelessness. The very air around Ashley and Callo vibrated with the pure force of her voice; paper blowing around the room and chairs flinging themselves against the wall as the window behind Ashley exploding in a cloud of sand.

And then it all stopped.

Slowly Callo lifted her head and met Ashley's eyes. The voice started again but was quickly quietened down as she flicked her glance away. She tried to speak, but pain, this time physical, wouldn't allow her to speak a single syllable. Gently, Ashley's right hand closed around her throat and she felt a pulse of warmth shoot from it to her larynx, spreading quickly throughout her body.

Quickly she rose to her feet, throwing herself through the window. As Ashley stood up, he heard her crazed footsteps smash against the cobblestones of the street outside. With a sigh, he waved his hand, the window reformed itself: Sand rushing through the air, forming shards of glass until they all joined together in the frame as a flat pane of glass. And then he walked through the wall, fading through it as time reasserted itself upon the VKP building.

"--n... wha!" Dejamir realised that both Ashley and Callo had disappeared, leaving his office as an absolute wreck. Fear raced through his mind as the possibilities of what could have transpired there mounted and mounted. His mind made up, Dejamir pulled the door open, striding towards what was to be the biggest mistake in his life...

* * *

He had been about to fire yet his finger had been stilled. He had seen all that happened in Inquisitor Kalijan's office and it baffled him, but that should not have stopped him from achieving his mission. Regnak was furious with himself but there had been something about that scream which had chilled him to his very core. There was something very wrong with what was going on but could he afford to find out what that was, or would it jeopardise his quest for justice?

* * *

Sondra found her sitting on the doorstep to her apartment, sobbing silently. Holding Callo close to her chest, she led her inside and to the bedroom, constantly whispering soothingly to her. Laying her down on the bed, Sondra wiped the hair gently from Callo's face. Placing a soft kiss on her forehead, she slowly removed their clothes. As she pulled the blanket over them both, she held her closer still, offering her all the warmth and love she could. No-one could do this but her... no-one at all.

"So much pain..."

"What pain? Are you hurt Callo?" Throwing back the blanket, Sondra quickly scanned her companion's body but found nothing wrong.

"Not mine... Ashley's. His soul burns with it constantly... how can he live with it? How can he take it all?" Callo asked, her voice imploring for answers from Sondra, but she had none to give.

"Hush darling... no use worrying about it now. Just try and get some sleep..." Sondra frowned when she saw Callo was desperately trying to look anywhere but at her. Grasping her by the chin, the Observer forcibly made eye contact with the Inquisitor, a whimper being issued from the latter, making the former shiver with fear. "What's wrong with you? Why won't you tell me?"

Breaking Sondra's grip on her, Callo rolled over, facing away from her as she gathered up the blanket around her. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you... you'd say I was crazy..."

Grabbing her by the arm, Sondra rolled Callo back, anger setting her jaw rigid. "LOOK AT ME! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

"They're speaking to me... whispering to me constantly. They won't leave me in peace... I can see your pain, your secrets and your hate... the demons won't let me be..." she said as she stroked Sondra's face, tears forming in her eyes. "I know who you are Pretender Felsham and I know why you are here, but I don't care..." Slowly Callo pulled her in, their lips meeting so tenderly.

Breaking away, Sondra stared straight back at Callo. "I love you Callie, but..." She sat up, turning away from Callo. "I can't do this anymore... so much to live with... so much I've lost and left behind. But I found you again and... I don't want to lose you again but they'll kill me..."

Hands slipped around her waist as she felt Callo's warm breath against her neck. "Please... not tonight... I need you so badly... you're the only happiness I have left... please, don't run away from me again..." Slowly turning Sondra in her hands, she pushed her to the bed, lying atop her, their legs intertwined. "Just tonight... we do this... tomorrow is a brand new day..."

And this time the angels sang to Callo...


	13. Tuesday's Child

**Chapter Twelve - Tuesday's Child**

A slight smile touched his lips; she was coming today. They had told him earlier today and since then he'd been sat on the edge of his bed. Finally he would have someone to talk to, someone who could understand his wonder about Leá Monde. He had thought that she would never be coming; that he would be left to try and unravel the mystery by himself, but today she was coming. He'd been so lonely after his mother died from scarlet fever, but that had nothing on the empty pit he felt gnawing away at him, despite all of the people around him. Security had been increased since his father's murder: 'if you have the gall to assassinate the Duke, surely he'll come back to finish the job and kill the son?' was the idea running through the minds of Joshua's aides. 'Create a political vacuum and then fill it,' but who would be the one to succeed to the dukedom? Joshua Bardorba was the last of his line as far as anyone knew and none of the aides would be acceptable, so the solution would have to be found outside of the dukedom...

But none of that mattered to Joshua right now for she was coming. At last, a fellow survivor of the bizarre nightmare that had been Leá Monde, another soul who'd been eternally warped by what they had witnessed.

It felt like an eternity that he'd been waiting when he heard the cries of the doormen announcing her arrival. He closed his eyes, imagining her progress through the long halls. Her pace was calm and even, marked only by the clacking sound her heels made upon the marble; arms hanging loosely by her sides as her hips swaggered with the funny walk that he'd noticed women had. She'd made it over the black and white tiled floor and was making her way up the first set of stairs, her right hand trailing along the rich oak banister. The second floor was carpeted so her heels were silent, the swishing of her hair all that could be heard... Joshua sighed as he shook himself from his imagination. He knew he would have to make himself somewhat more presentable or he'd suffer the disapproval of his aides for the rest of the day. He drew himself upright, his small fingers fumbling with the buttons at the neck of his shirt. _Top of the second flight of stairs; down the hall._ Carefully he tucked the tails of his shirt into his trousers. _Third door on the right, reaching for the handle._ Grabbing his smock, he hurriedly pulled it over his head before running a hand through his hair to get it in some way neat as the door opened.

There she was, light from the window at the end of the hall caught her black hair, making all the loose strands shine like an aura of disarray around her. She had bags underneath her brown eyes and her lids were half-closed with exhaustion. Was this even the same person that Joshua had met in Leá Monde? Unsure of how to act in the situation, he gestured to a chair in the corner for her to sit in. Slowly her head turned to take the chair in and she finally understood, slumping gratefully into it.

"Callo?" a hint of child-like concern crept into his voice. "You alright?"

"Huh? Oh, uhm... sorry milord, I--" Callo stopped as Joshua giggled a bit. "OK, sorry Joshua, I've been... uhm... busy. How've you been since..." she trailed off, deciding she didn't want to go down that path, but she was too late. Joshua's head bowed as he sniffed to himself. Instantly regretting it, Callo rose from her chair and sat beside him on the bed, draping an arm around the young boy's shoulders. "I'm sorry... I should've..."

"No... he's dead, that's it. I'll be strong," he said, though the tears running from his eyes betrayed him.

"So, uhm..." Callo's discomfort was clear to see. "Tell me what you did today."

Shaking off the tears, Joshua turned and looked her in the eyes, his soul bleeding into hers. Quickly she snatched her gaze away, focusing on a spot on the wall behind him.

"I waited for you to come."

"Doesn't sound like much fun."

"I'm a Duke now. Dukes don't have fun..."

"I'm sure that's not true. Why don't we play a game?"

His face lightened up as a smile took its hold on his face...

* * *

"She's been here for hours now. What are they doing?"

"None of our business. He could be suckling from her teats for all I care. As long as I get paid, I don't care... just being in this place makes me feel dirty."

_Pitter-patter_

"I know how you feel. All the things we've seen while employed here... just to have witnessed them leaves me feeling queasy. And now our boss is a bloody child! This just takes the biscuit..."

_Pitter-patter_

"But what else can we do? I don't know about you, but I need the money and it's not as if I'm trained for any other occupation than th--"

The two servants looked up as the sound of running footsteps thundered around them. Through the open doorframe they saw their new master running as fast as his little legs could carry him. Shortly after, a laughing Callo Merlose went flying past the doorway as well, her black hair streaming backwards over her shoulders.

Her legs were starting to ache a little but she didn't care, the adrenaline carrying her onwards after her target. She skidded around the corner, going through the door to the right. She stopped after a few strides inwards, Joshua not in sight. She heard the rustle of clothing behind and whirled around just in time to see him slip through the doorway. _Clever, he stood right there while I charged past him..._ Quickly she resumed the chase, her bare feet slapping against the cold marble - she'd abandoned her heels long ago, finding it rather difficult to run flat-out in them.

As he started to mount the stairs, she closed the distance, lightly tagging him on the shoulder. "You're it!" Overtaking him, she took the steps three at a time but luck wouldn't favour her today. Her right foot slipped off a step and she threw out her arms to try and stop her fall but to no avail. Her forehead came smashing down on the edge of a step, the wind being knocked from her lungs.

"Callo!"

Woozily, she rolled over, the steps digging into her back. She put a hand to her head, trying to push the pain out as her eyes closed. "Shi- ugar." Slowly she let her head rest on the steps, her chest heaving as she tried to fill her lungs with air. Opening her eyes, she saw the young Duke looking at her, worry painted all over his face. "Don't worry Joshua, I'm alright, though I think this might be a good time to cut my losses and run."

"Yo... you're going?" A petulant whine entered his voice.

"Don't worry, I'll come back."

"Tomorrow?"

"No. I'll need to do some work... I'll come in two days: Thursday."


	14. Confines of Delusion

**Chapter Thirteen - Confines of Delusion**

He didn't know why he did it but nonetheless he kept on sleeping. And when he slept, the dreams came and they frightened him in a way he'd never felt before. He was a Riskbreaker, they didn't feel fear but still he trembled when the dark voices called for him, their ghostly arms stretching out for him. He wanted to stop them but he knew it was already too late. He was on a path that had been laid before him and there was no turning back now. He had killed an innocent; to stop now would be foolhardy.

Ashley swung his feet from the bed, resting his soles upon the wooden floor, feeling the grain against his toes. Was this real? He reached over for the vest slung over a nearby chair, pulling it over his head. Rising, he looked into a full-length mirror, seeing his reflection set against a background of degradation. Instead of setting his hair into its usual state of wild zigzags arcing through the air, he plaited it, one running down each side of his face. It was a style he hadn't worn since...

A few minutes later he was walking through the front door of his apartment into an empty street. The dawn rays of light struck the cobblestones, their edges glimmering as his boots trudged downwards upon them, little splashes of morning dew soaking into his boots.

He had one more day to kill until the day he would kill. One more day of waiting and watching over her until he would snuff out her existence. It wasn't as if anyone would really miss her, she was pretty much a ghost in this reality. No, her death would be fairly inconsequential... there was the question of the woman she was with but he didn't pay much mind to that.

But still, he didn't want to see her dead. He didn't know quite why, when or how, but she had touched his heart in a way he just couldn't shake. Maybe he could kill her last? No, he had his reasons for this order, reasons that went back to...

He scaled the drainpipe, his thighs clasping tightly against its sides as he reached upwards to take grip again and again, pulling himself up. Was this real? He slung his arms over the edge onto the rooftop, swinging his legs after them. He got up into a crouch; making his way to the roofs apex, settling himself down upon it and drawing his knees close into himself. There he sat for an hour or two until she finally left to go to work. From his vantage point, he could see the disarray she carried herself in but that wasn't the worrying aspect of it. No, it was the aura she was emitting so fiercely that he didn't even have to try and see it. His own aura was purple, control flowing through him. Duke Bardorba's had been grey, passivity having overcome him. But Callo... Callo's was pitch black, pure despair running through her soul... Even those who didn't have the power to see such things managed to sense it. The streets were starting to become alive again and as the Inquisitor walked along, head drooping as she stared unseeingly at the path, everyone moved out of her way, repulsed by what was unknown and unclear to them.

He descended from the roof and walked in her wake, slipstreaming even though he was almost ten metres behind her. It was if they feared to tread where she had been, that they would be tainted by her soul if they did so.

This was his life as it now stood. A stalker; watching and waiting for his time to come, as it surely must. A loner; yearning for the bliss of solace, never to get it. A vagrant; wandering and wondering, never truly belonging to anything. That was his story... the vagrant story.

He looked through the slightly frosted window as she tired to settle herself at the overlarge wooden desk. Was this real? She randomly shuffled pieces of paper, trying to make sense of all that was in front of her, before slamming it all down on the desk, holding her head in her hands. Her body shook convulsively, the tears running down her face and staining the paper below. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the window, condensation soaking into the flesh. He traced the outline of her jaw bemusedly, wondering what on earth it was he was doing. Was this... love? No, he had no reason at all to feel this way. Things like this don't just spring up from the middle of nowhere. They had barely talked or even seen each other so how could he feel this way? It was ridiculous... he snatched his hand back, turning away from the window. This wasn't real...

He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, the static of his thoughts slowly dwindling away into nothingness. Silently he sought out reality, fighting his way back to consciousness. It was then he felt it; the warm breath on his lips, the gossamer sound of hair idly swinging reaching his ears, the knowledge she was there, right before him. He felt her arms loop around his neck, her thighs pressing against his, their lips brushing together...

He opened his eyes and saw her. It wasn't Callo... his heart opened up as he recognised her face, same as it had been all those years ago. The blonde hair perpetually tied in a bun, the flowing white dress clinging to the contours of her body, the simple necklace that dangled just above her cleavage. He savoured the scent of her breath, the touch of her skin, the depth of her eyes. This was is wife, the mother of his child...

"I've missed you so..." she whispered huskily into his ear, the timbre of her voice staining him indelibly. His hands gently caressed her face, feeling once more the shape he had known for so long.

"I've missed you too Callo..."

No sooner had the words slipped from his tongue did she metamorphose into the VKP beauty. She kissed him passionately, fervently, and he found himself replying in kind, lost in the moment. She broke off, holding him at arms length, her brown eyes staring into his soul. Was this real? Suddenly, her whole body jerked, her head flying backwards. Slowly it came back to its previous position, staring at him, shock dancing in her irises. She fell from his desperately clutching grasp, his eyes following her as she turned, revealing the arrowgun shaft protruding from her back. He fell to his knees, staring at her, only to look up when he heard the voice.

"I had to kill her, it was my duty..."

There stood Ashley Riot, VKP Infantryman, arrowgun in his hand hanging loosely by his side. "But she was an innocent, had committed no crime... why did I have to kill her?"

The shade looked over his shoulder, as if listening to someone behind him. "But she had done nothing wrong Jan! Is this what the VKP has been reduced to? Murdering innocent women!"

Again a pause before the shade's gaze returned to the corpse lying before him.

"No, this was wrong Rosencrantz... I shouldn't have done this..." Looking up, the shade stared directly at the real Ashley Riot. "We shouldn't have done this."

Like mist in the wind, the corpse and the shade faded away leaving only the Riskbreaker, down on his knees crying, the mid-morning dew soaking his knees. Was this real?

Ashley sat up in bed, facing the window. Darkness poured through as the moon glimmered effervescently.

"Is this real?"


	15. Lunacy's Ascension

**Chapter Fourteen - Lunacy's Ascension**

The day began as any other. It rained. Valendia was the kind of place that was besieged by rain most of the year round. Generally the days were dry but the nights were a torrent of water, drumming down upon roofs. Today was his last chance. He had to do it today or he would never have his chance for revenge. Regnak stood and looked down upon the table before him. He took the grip, sliding the track into place atop it until it clicked into position. Taking the stock, he inched it along until he was satisfied with the sight and clicked that into place as well. Fastening it, he restrung the bow and hung it from his belt. He opened the small quiver, taking a count of the bolts inside. Twenty should be more than enough for his task today. Hanging that from his hip, he surveyed the knives he kept tucked into the baldric. All sharp enough to do the job; he pulled the baldric over his head. Finally his eyes fell on the sword, the sword of his brother. The simple pommel and hilt running into the lethal blade; he slipped it into its equally simple scabbard and hung it from his left hip.

He walked to the window, looking out over Valein. It seemed peaceful enough, the dull mist and rain covering it like a blanket. While the city slept, he prepared for death. Not his but that of the damned VKP bitch who had ruined his life. Today was his day. Vengeance would be his...

* * *

But not the entire city slept. No, he was awake. He didn't trust himself to sleep through another night like the last. He would get this task done and in a week's time he would be able to rest eternally. Despite what his dreams told him, he had to do this. It was his destiny, his reason for life. It was his duty. Ashley stood alone in his room, sunlight creeping slowly in to shine upon his form. He held the sword up straight, resting his forehead against the central blade as he mentally prepared himself. Today another innocent soul would depart this world because of him. He would murder again, but out of necessity not lust. It had to be this way despite hating the way it made him feel. No, Callo Merlose would die today...

* * *

She woke, the dream fluttering away on the breeze that came in through the open window. Already her memory of it was fading but she still understood the gist of it. Today she would die. Thursday, the day of thunder. Named after Thor, the thunder god. What was the point of fighting it though? She would die and that would be it. An escape from her current plague.

She turned onto her side, looking at the peaceful face beside her. She reached out and gently caressed Sondra's cheek; a smile growing on the latter's face as she mumbled something. Slowly Callo leant over, leaving a soft kiss upon Sondra's lips.

"I wish I could stay but I've got to go away..." she whispered. Rising from the bed, Callo looked upon her naked form in a mirror. Her ribs showed clearly, food having not been her primary concern the last few weeks, but her figure still retained its simple, elegant grace. Shaking her head, she reached for her clothes, slipping into the tight-fitting yet still comfortable leather.

Finally dressed, she gave one last kiss to Sondra before walking through the door towards her inevitable fate...

* * *

He woke, the dream fluttering away on the breeze that came in through the open window. Today she was coming again. They'd play some more games, maybe talk a little. He needed her, the simple escape from having to be sensible and responsible. Such things were hard on adults, let alone a young boy like him. Joshua looked out the window and saw a Bluejay alight upon a tree branch outside. He watched as it looked back at him, cocking its head to the side as if curious to whom this child was. Joshua ran to the window but the bird flew away. Joshua's head fell. The bird had left him just as his everyone else had. His mother and father had died, Hardin had died... the only one left was Callo. Well, there was that Ashley person, but he didn't see all that much of him. Once in the manor and that was it. Maybe he would see him again some day?

Joshua got dressed, preparing himself for seeing the VKP Inquisitor again, not knowing that this would be the last day they would meet in this world...

* * *

Callo walked into her office and carefully arranged the paper on her desk. She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the certificate that lay in there. She looked at it, the award she received for finishing top of her class. That day she had graduated from trainee to VKP Inquisitor, from victim to arbiter of justice. She had slipped away from the party afterwards and had tracked him down. He had begged for his life but she didn't care. She ran him through with his own sword, leaving the bastard to slowly bleed to death. He had deserved what he got, no-one could have argued against that. That day she executed him for the crime of rape. That day she got justice. That day all women were made just that bit safer. No-one else would be raped by the monster she had left to drown in his own blood.

She sighed, shaking her head before tearing the certificate in half. She looked around the room but could see no sign of Inquisitor Kalijan anywhere. It wasn't all that odd, but she hadn't seen him yesterday either. Not that it mattered, she wouldn't see him tomorrow either. Taking the halves of the certificate with her, she left for the Bardorba residence.

* * *

Again his hand had been stayed. For some reason he didn't fire even though she was in his sights. On one hand he wanted her dead so badly, yet on the other he was curious as to what was going on. Why would this day be his last chance to kill her? What had happened the few days ago? He knew that his mysterious benefactor certainly knew more than they'd been letting on, but just how important was that information? Regnak rose from his position, slowly following Callo from across the rooftops. _Shit! She's headed for the Duke's manor. Killing her there will be a lot harder..._ Changing his mind, he decided upon a different plan. A far more cunning one that would work just as well. All he needed was a bit more time...

* * *

Sondra stood over him, scorn in her eyes as she looked down upon the 'legend' before her. He was still asleep but that wouldn't last long. She kicked him in the side, making him cry in pain as he awoke.

"Good morning Inquisitor Kalijan. I do so hope you had a pleasant nights sleep?"

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked, wincing in pain as the pain in his side continued. He wanted to touch it but he couldn't from where he was, chained to the floor, his naked form spread supine.

"Oh, I do beg your forgiveness for my rudeness. I'm Observer Sondra Felsham, pleased to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm sure," he muttered, not liking the look on her face or her manner one bit. "Why the hell am I here?"

"Ah, well I must commend you on getting straight to the point. You're here because you made a serious mistake. A very serious one indeed. You shouldn't have told the Grand Stewart about the Pretenders. Considering he ordered their use, that was a big mistake. You see, Grand Stewart Le Sait ordered our use in the matter of Inquisitor Merlose to keep an eye on her and... well, no need for me to tell you everything..."

"'Our'? You're a Pretender!"

"Exactly. And well, we can't go letting people wander around who know about our existence. This also gives me a delightful opportunity as well."

"And that would be?"

"To find out just what it was that Callo told you that made her cry all those days ago. That's been puzzling me for the last nine days... and now you're going to tell me."

"Why the hell should I if you're going to kill me anyway?"

"That was a stupid question Dejamir. It all depends on how I kill you. Quickly or slowly, the choice is yours. Personally, I'm hoping for slowly. You see, I don't like you being close to Callo, not one iota. She's told you things she won't tell me, and that makes me mad. I should know everything about her. I mean, that's what you do with your lover, isn't it?" Sondra continued as the prisoner's eyes bulged, realising just who it was before him. "You tell them everything, even your inner-most secrets. But since she seems so reluctant to do so, you'll tell me for her."

"Fuck you bitch! I won't betray her!"

"Betray? I think not. She already knows who I am and we're still together as we will be forever. It's only reasonable for you to help me since you care for her as well. You should want to see her happy, and who else can make her happy but me?"

"No way. It's her secret to tell when she's ready. Maybe you should ask yourself why she hasn't told you. Maybe she doesn't love you as much as you think Sondra."

Her eyes narrowed but the smile remained on her face. "I'm so glad you're going to fight this. It'll make it far more fun for me." She removed a knife from her belt and crouched down beside him. His eyes followed her hand as she made two small incisions running parallel to each other on his chest. She joined them at the bottom, making a small flap of skin. She took hold of it between her fingers and turned to look Dejamir in the eyes. "I do so hope you'll enjoy this as much as I know I will." With that, she pulled upwards, tearing a strip of skin from his body, a scream of agony erupting from the Inquisitor...

* * *

They had been playing hopscotch in the hallway for nearly an hour when one of the guards at the gate came in, a vaguely familiar stranger behind him.

"Inquisitor Merlose I presume?" asked the stranger.

The guard turned round, surprise on his face. "You mean you don't know her? But you said you were from the VK--"

The guard looked even more surprised when he felt the blade enter his stomach, before it ripped upwards viciously, splitting his chest, coating the floor in his blood.

Pushing the guard from the blade, Regnak stepped forwards as Callo pushed Joshua behind her.

"You're not getting him, d'ya hear me you bastard?" she cried defiantly.

"Him? Why would I... ahh, you think I'm here to assassinate the child like the Duke? Well, I've got news for you bitch. I didn't kill the Duke and I'm not after the brat either. I came here to kill you VKP Inquisitor Callo Merlose."

"Wha... what? Why would you..." It was then that she realised whom it was he reminded her of. Alex Drummond. They looked so similar; he even had the same prominent nose and his eyes... they screamed pain at her. A visage of Regnak appeared besides him and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't will it away.

"You ruined my life when you murdered my brother. I'd looked up to him for so long and you took him away from me, so now I'm going to execute you for it. The child can go for all I care, but not until after your corpse is lying at my feet."

"_KILL..._" the grey form screamed, hands curled into fists by its side.

"Your brother was not a good man. He deserved to die for what he did to me."

"Oh, and what was that?" he said, not really caring as he drew a sword from the scabbard at his hips. Callo swallowed nervously as she recognised it; the very same blade that had been used to strip her and the weapon she had used to kill the bastard who had done that to her.

"_KILL..._"

"He raped me."

Regnak Drummond's eyes narrowed as the hand that held the sword started to tremble. "You're lying, bitch. My brother would never do anything like that. He was a good man!"

"_KILL..._"

"He raped me because I refused him. He tied me to the floor and stripped me of my clothes with that sword you're holding right now. He raped me because he couldn't take me with my consent. Your brother was a bastard and deserved to die!"

"YOU'RE LYING!" Regnak bellowed as he charged at her. Pulling Joshua with her, Callo dived into an open doorway to her left just as he staggered past, the tip of his sword catching her side.

"_KILL..._"

Hitting the floor, she executed a tumbler's roll, landing on her shoulder and spinning round onto her feet. She grabbed Joshua and started to run as the doorway was filled with the figure of Regnak.

"YOU WON'T GET AWAY FROM ME THAT EASILY BITCH!" He chased her, the sword smashing through a chair that she threw at him, the halves going either side of him.

Down the stairs they ran into the gloom of the basement, Callo grabbing the brazier that was by the entrance and throwing it to the floor, removing all light from the room except that spilled forth from the stairwell.

As stealthily as they could, Callo and Joshua made their way through the darkness, his hand clasped tightly in hers as they moved around crates and barrels when they found them in their path.

"I'LL FIND YOU BITCH, MAKE NO MISTAKE ABOUT THAT!"

They froze for a moment before plunging on further into the darkness.

"Callo, I'm scared," the young boy whispered.

"Don't worry, I won't let him hurt you Joshua," she replied, but somehow it didn't fill him full of confidence. She was unarmed while the scary man had a big sword and a knife, not to mention anything else he might have brought with him.

A screeching sound reached Callo's ears, the sound of Regnak's sword scraping across the stone floor as he walked. It sounded close, very close. Turning to Joshua, she whispered as loudly as she dared. "Stay right here. When he's gone, you run for the stairs alright?" When he nodded solemnly, she ran from him, screaming at the top of her lungs.

Instantly, the screeching sound stopped and Regnak's heavy footsteps could be heard chasing after the source of the scream. Joshua ran as fast as his legs could carry him, running towards the light. But he never made it, instead running into something, knocking him backwards off of his feet. Hands reached for him, one covering his mouth to cut off the scream. Looking up at the face of the person holding him, his heart fluttered.

"Where's Callo?" Ashley asked, removing the hand from the young child's mouth.

"She ran off screaming so I could get away. The scary man was after her with a sword!"

"Thank you for being honest Joshua. Now, be a good boy and go upstairs. You'll be safer there than down here, alright?"

Joshua nodded and ran, but not before noticing the huge sword strapped to Ashley's back. It looked just like the painting on the ceiling of the cathedral...

Ashley ran into the darkness, his eyes and ears as alert as possible. He found them facing each other warily, the man with a sword in his hand and Callo a few meters away, holding a thick piece of wood, almost a meter long.

Quickly he swung his leg, kicking the sword from the man's hand. As he whirled around to face Ashley, he saw the punch coming but couldn't do anything about it. He staggered backwards, hitting a barrel, which he knocked over while falling to the floor himself.

"I can't let you kill her Regnak." Callo was shocked that Ashley knew his name. Did they know each other?

Spitting up blood, Regnak tried to stand but slumped back down. "It's been a long time Ashley... what is it, three years since we last met?"

"Yes, that was an exceptional situation, two missions crossing over like that. We almost killed each other, not believing that the other was really a Riskbreaker."

"How were we supposed to know? Riskbreakers work alone, everyone knows that... so what brings you here to stop me from killing this bitch?"

"Well, I can't let you kill her since I'm going to. Sound familiar? But there is another reason Regnak. She was telling the truth."

Both Callo and Regnak's thoughts were the same: How did he know?

"Callo, come here for a moment."

Silently she responded, the piece of wood hanging from her hand as it dangled by her side. With one hand, Ashley reached out to her, seizing her wrist, clasping his other hand to Regnak's.

Visions flashed in Regnak's head, fear, panic, hatred, disgust and loathing careening through his mind. He saw his brother through her eyes. He saw Alex force his way between his legs. He saw it all and he wept. Was this really the man that he had looked up to all his life, the big brother that had commanded so much of his respect and adoration? His body sagged as the tears overwhelmed him.

Callo didn't have a clue what was going on but continued to watch in silence as the man who attempted to kill her bawled his eyes out, while another man who wanted to kill her held her wrist.

Ashley took Regnak by the shoulders, forcing him to look deep into the ex-Riskbreakers eyes. "What I just showed you was real Regnak. Your brother was a rapist and not the good man you thought he was. What Callo did to him was justice. I'm sorry you had to find out this way but you need to know the truth. Just leave her be... go and don't look back Regnak. Never look back..."

He helped the fallen man to his feet before bidding him farewell. Regnak Drummond stumbled away, his head still reeling at what he had discovered.

Sighing, Ashley turned to face Callo, but she had gone. Closing his eyes, he sensed her nearby; she still hadn't got out of the basement...

Drawing the Sword of Blood, Ashley stalked through the darkness. Sensing movement to his right, but able to see Regnak about ten meters in front of him, Ashley threw the massive sword overhand, its blades carving the darkness up until it met its target with a sickening crunch. Walking over to it, Ashley was shocked to see whom he had killed. Not Callo as he had thought, but a small boy. Joshua. One blade had pierced his stomach, a second smashed through the young child's skull. He didn't see Callo stumble upon the scene. He didn't hear the curse muttered under her breath. All he could see was this child dead before him, just as he had seen his son dead before him so many years ago. They looked so alike...

Falling to his knees, Ashley arched his back as his guttural scream resounded through the basement, forcing Callo and Regnak, who was nearly at the stairs, to cover their ears. A white glow surrounded him, growing in intensity until he could no longer be seen. When the light finally receded, Ashley was gone...

Regnak's footsteps pounding on the floor brought Callo to her senses. There was no doubt the young duke was dead. As Regnak took in the scene that lay before him, Callo started to walk away, her soul dead. Turning, Regnak followed, the both of them silent as they left, both unable to believe what they had seen, leaving the corpse where it lay.

* * *

Joshua opened his eyes to discover himself in the cathedral of Leá Monde again... Light poured in from the stained glass windows all around him, painting intricate patterns on the floor in front of him. His study of them was disrupted by a screeching sound. Looking up, he saw the doors start to open, a blinding white light coming from behind them. Joshua smiled and started to run down the aisle. As the doors opened wider and more light spilt forth, Joshua's grin widened and his pace became faster, pushing himself onto the figure that was starting to appear. After what seemed an age, Joshua reached him, throwing his arms around the man's waist. Beside them a kinda scary looking man with metal arms stood, but Joshua wasn't scared. He took one metal hand and one hand of flesh and walked with the two into the light, towards the sound of a woman laughing. A family reunited once more...

* * *

Callo walked home and while physically silent, her mind was screaming at her. _If I hadn't run from Ashley, Joshua wouldn't be dead... it's my fault, all my fault..._

A young couple bumped into her, breaking her from her reverie. Her eye met the mans and instantly a grey version of him appeared to his side.

"_She's kinda hot..._"

Snatching her gaze away, she looked to the floor and continued on past them. Passing a small stall in the street, a middle-aged rotund man approached her.

"Want to buy some fresh apples luv'? Four for a pound?"

Their eyes met and she saw his grey form. "_Please say yes, I need the money to support my wife and kids..._"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" she screamed, before turning and walking on, her pace was somewhat faster now. Everywhere she looked, people turned around to stare at her, disturbed by her cry. And besides them appeared grey forms, all of them talking to her at once.

"_What's up with her?_" "_Is that young woman alright?_" "_Woah, she's cute!_" "_What's with her, screaming at the poor guy?_"

Their voices bombarded her sense until she could take no more. Covering her ears, she ran, ran through the streets as fast as she could, ran from the voices in her head, ran from the harsh realities of life...

She threw open the door to her apartment, running inside to the bathroom where she threw up into the sink. She didn't even dare look up into the mirror for fear of what she would see. Entering the bedroom, she sat down on the edge of the bed, holding her head in her hands, crying to herself. Why is this happening to me? Why won't they just leave me be?

She looked up, through the window. She watched the birds fly through the sky. She watched the hands of the gigantic clock on the church slowly go round. But slowly her focus fixed on something else. Her reflection. Her eyes.

"_Do it..._"

Behind her sat a grey form of herself.

"_Stop the voices..._"

The grey form's left hand reached out, to gently rest on her shoulder, the other reaching across Callo's belly. It seemed so real that she could actually feel her touch...

"_Do it. Stop the voices..._"

"But how do I do that?" she heard herself ask.

"_You know how to do it. Stop the voices..._"

Slowly, Callo rose from the bed and walked into the kitchen. She drew a large kitchen knife before returning to the bed. Again the grey form appeared, this time kneeling before her.

"_Do it. Stop the voices..._"

Slowly Callo raised the knife.

"_That's it. Stop the voices... Do it now. Stop them for eternity..._"

Callo trembled as she sunk the blade into herself, blood spraying everywhere...

* * *

She was on a high, remembering the thrill of watching him screaming and begging for her to end it quickly. She had refused, enjoying every moment that caused pain to the bastard who'd tried to steal Callo from her. Eventually he had told her what Callo had said. That pained her in a way, but she was happy to know about Callo's dark secret. She whistled as she walked, eventually arriving at Callo's place.

When she knocked on the door, it idly swung inwards, clattering against a wall. Resting a hand on the hilt of the dagger at her belt, she carefully stepped in, a floorboard creaking loudly; echoing throughout the desolate abode. Wincing, she lifted her other foot and placed it down as softly as she could, repeating the procedure as she made her way from room to room. Eyes alert, she slowly drew the small blade, her palm slick against the grip. Satisfied all the rooms but one were clear, she steadied herself behind the door, trying to shake all sense of nerves from her body. Hefting the dagger, she held it by the blade in preparation to throw it. She leant against the door, her free hand reaching for the handle. As she pushed the door open, she rolled through it sideways, coming up into a crouch; knife at the ready but she didn't throw it. She saw only one person in the room; silhouetted against the moonlit window, Inquisitor Merlose sat before it on the edge of the bed.

Silence.

With a sigh, she rose up, her muscles easing from their tense state. "Your door was unlocked... I thought... he was here."

Silence.  
Shaking.

"W... what's wrong Callo?" Sondra asked, tension creeping into her voice. As her eyes adjusted to the new intake of light, she noticed the stains on the bed. Red stains. Bloodstains.

Silence.  
Shaking.  
Shivering.

As she started to walk around the bed, she saw that Callo also held a dagger in her hands, this one covered in blood.

Silence.  
Shaking.  
Shivering.  
Shattering.

Grabbing Callo, by her shoulder, Sondra Felsham span her around and stared into the mutilated cavities that had once housed Callo's eyes. Blood and pus oozed from ragged gashes where she had repeatedly plunged the dagger in.

Silence. Shaking. Shivering. Shattering. Sacrifice...

"They shan't hear my secrets anymore, nor I theirs... I'm free of them at last; the voices have stopped..." With a small giggle, Inquisitor Callo Merlose passed out, falling backwards onto the bloodstained sheets, the dagger rolling from her slackened grip...


	16. History's Divergence

**Chapter Fifteen - History's Divergence**

The book opened and the pages turned, as they always seemed to at times like these. The windows were open, the satin curtains flittering about in the breeze that sailed in. The words seemed as if they were trying to leap from the page, to assert themselves upon a reader and make them just that little bit more complete. And so they told their story, the secret words seeping through the pores of all that would read them. Such was the nature of history, always to be as its writer decreed, not necessarily bound by the truth...

* * *

_White... light... blinding... it hurts! Stop! Stop it!_

Slowly the glow receded and Ashley was no longer in the basement of the Bardorba residence. Quite where his new surroundings were he didn't know but that didn't matter since he didn't care either...

_Joshua..._

The boy had died by his hand. Yes, he had wanted to kill the youth but not at that time; he wasn't ready...

_Pain..._

Ashley took in his surroundings; he knelt upon grass, a luscious green that sang of vibrancy and life. It was soon to be stained red. Looking up, he saw the summit of a hill, a tree atop it; its green leaves in vivid contrast to the cloudless blue sky that adorned the roof of the world. The sun shone brightly, vivacity to be found in its warm embrace.

Ashley rose to his feet, his bones creaking with the fog of death upon them.

_Where am I? How did I get here?_

He gently strolled up the hill, his eyes taking in everything - the yellow daffodils that nestled together like young lovers, the birds cartwheeling in the sky as they sung out to each other, they young family under the tree.

_The young family under the tree..._

A man and a woman sat together, a young boy sitting nearby; all upon a red and white chequered cloth which also had a wicker hamper resting upon it. They sat in the shade, talking softly to each other. The woman stood up, her white dress flowing smoothly while clinging to her body. She gently leant over, placing a kiss upon the mans lips before smiling and walking away. The young man turned to the child; a smile taking his face as he shared a joke with his son. But the son's eyes were no longer watching his father. His eyes fixed on the beautiful young woman, his ears focusing on the cry of pain as the blade erupted through her chest, the spray of blood erupting into this peaceful world. As she fell forward, the sword remaining still in its owner's hands, her head turned to see her family one last time before closing eternally. The young man stared in horror, swiftly rising to his feet as if to chase down the two vandals that had done this to his beloved when he saw a crossbow bolt go flying past him. Spinning, he saw his son collapse to the floor, a small fist wrapped around the wooden shaft that protruded from his chest. He fell to his knees, reaching for his son when the sun was blotted out from his sight. Looking up, the last thing he saw was the blade arcing viciously towards him.

Ashley stood stock-still as all of this happened, not for one moment accepting that any of this could be real. He couldn't be watching this, not his past...

Suddenly he found his legs carrying him up the hill as fast as they could, the two brigands growing ever larger in his vision. With a scream of fury he leapt at the first one, his fingers plunging through his eyes. But there was to be no blood for Ashley, no rush of exhilaration as he killed in the aid of justice. Instead, Ashley merely passed straight through the mans body, the figure paying no attention to the curiosity that had just happened. Turning over from where he lay, words reached Ashley's ears.

"I had to kill them, it was my duty..."

"Well done Captain! That was a most excellent shot I must say!"

"But they were innocents, they had committed no crime... why did I have to kill them?"

"They were witnesses. You know the VKP protocol - we couldn't let them live. It was their fault that they intruded upon our chase."

The figure down on one knee over the young man turned to look over his shoulder to stare at the second. Ashley's heart stopped as he recognised the face - it was his own. "But they had done nothing wrong Jan! Is this what the VKP has been reduced to? Murdering innocent people!"

"What is wrong with you Captain? You've never been like this before!"

"No, this was wrong Rosencrantz... I shouldn't have done this..." Looking up, the shade stared directly at the real Ashley Riot. "We shouldn't have done this."

Slowly it all faded away to nothingness, only Ashley lying backwards upon a non-existent hill.

_Was that real? Is this the truth? I knew naught about the innocents I slaughtered? It had all been a figment of my imagination, the dark moulding that the VKP had placed upon me? No, I refuse to accept this... it cannot be!_

* * *

The satin curtains stopped flapping about, as the breeze died away, the night's calm returning once more to blanket the sleeping world. The book lay still, the words upon it unmoving. This was how it had been written, this was how it had been...

From nowhere another breeze came; stronger and more persistent than earlier. The page flickered before turning over, returning to the beginning of this chapter...

* * *

_White... light... blinding... it hurts! Stop! Stop it!_

Slowly the glow receded and Ashley was no longer in the basement of the Bardorba residence. Quite where his new surroundings were he didn't know but that didn't matter since he didn't care either...

_Joshua..._

The boy had died by his hand. Yes, he had wanted to kill the youth but not at that time; he wasn't ready...

_Pain..._

Ashley took in his surroundings; he knelt upon grass, a luscious green that sang of vibrancy and life. It was soon to be stained red. Looking up, he saw the summit of a hill, a tree atop it; its green leaves in vivid contrast to the cloudless blue sky that adorned the roof of the world. The sun shone brightly, vivacity to be found in its warm embrace.

Ashley rose to his feet, his bones creaking with the fog of death upon them.

_Where am I? How did I get here?_

He gently strolled up the hill, his eyes taking in everything - the yellow daffodils that nestled together like young lovers, the birds cartwheeling in the sky as they sung out to each other, they young family under the tree.

_The young family under the tree..._

A man and a woman sat together, a young boy sitting nearby; all upon a red and white chequered cloth which also had a wicker hamper resting upon it. They sat in the shade, talking softly to each other. The woman stood up, her white dress flowing smoothly while clinging to her body. She gently leant over, placing a kiss upon the mans lips before smiling and walking away. The young man turned to the child; a smile taking his face as he shared a joke with his son. But the son's eyes were no longer watching his father. His eyes fixed on the beautiful young woman, his ears focusing on the cry of pain as the blade erupted through her chest, the spray of blood erupting into this peaceful world. As she fell forward, the sword remaining still in its owner's hands, her head turned to see her family one last time before closing eternally. The young man stared in horror, swiftly rising to his feet as if to chase down the two vandals that had done this to his beloved when he saw a crossbow bolt go flying past him. Spinning, he saw his son collapse to the floor, a small fist wrapped around the wooden shaft that protruded from his chest. Rage boiled up in him and he ran, ran as fast as his legs could carry him; one thing and one thing only on his mind. Revenge! Justice! He leapt upon the first one, his fingers plunging into his opponent's eyes, blood gushing forth as they burst with a sickening pop. Spinning around, the young man turned upon the second vagrant, his hand wrapping around the bastards throat. Pure anger enabled him to lift the scoundrel from his feet where he could but beat at the arm that was cutting off his oxygen supply. Eventually the flailing arms went limp, the corpse slowly sinking to the floor. The young man wheezed, all life seeming to have been bled from his body in the righteous wrath that had enveloped him. Falling to his hands and knees, he crawled back to where his child lay.

"Why Marco? Why did you have to leave me? No... I will never let this happen to anyone ever again... never."

As the tears swallowed him whole, he looked up staring into apparently empty space, but that wasn't the case. Ashley stood there, disbelieving what he saw before him. He saw himself crying in anguish over the loss of his loved ones...

Slowly it all faded away to nothingness, only Ashley standing upon a non-existent hill.

_Was that real? Is this the truth? I witnessed the slaughter of my family and gained bloody reparation? It had really happened, not just a figment of the VKP's creation, as Sydney would have had it? Could it be...?_

* * *

Maybe history is only what we want it to be. Maybe it is only that which we can reach out and take hold of with our minds. Maybe it is the only reality that we wish to share with existence? If we were to force our will upon history, could we shape it to how we want it to be...?

The non-existent breeze returned, taking hold of the page one final time, flipping it back...

* * *

_White... light... blinding... it hurts! Stop! Stop it!_

Slowly the glow receded and Ashley was no longer in the basement of the Bardorba residence. Quite where his new surroundings were he didn't know but that didn't matter since he didn't care either...

_Joshua..._

The boy had died by his hand. Yes, he had wanted to kill the youth but not at that time; he wasn't ready...

_Pain..._

Ashley took in his surroundings; he sat upon a red and white chequered blanket, a beautiful woman opposite him and a young boy to his left, next to a wicker picnic hamper.

"Joshua..."

"Who?" The woman looked at Ashley peculiarly, her head tilted to one side.

Phantom memories slipped away from his grasp and Ashley was at a loss. "I, uhh... I don't know Tia. I... don't feel well all of a sudden."

"Daddy, are you alright!" cried Marco.

"Nothing a little rest can't cure son. Come on, we can do this again tomorrow, with no interruptions?"

"Sure, we'll do that darling," she said, a faint frown coming to her face.

The three gathered together the various items that had been spread out between them and put them carefully into their allotted places inside the hamper. With the basket in his right, Ashley held Tia's hand in his left, Marco walking just ahead of them. The sky seemed so bright and welcoming to him, but nearly as much as the eyes and soft touch of the woman beside him. It all seemed to be so right and well to him as they made their way back home together...


	17. Drowning In A River Of Pain

**Chapter Sixteen - Drowning in a River of Pain**

Raindrops fell upon him as he sat in his sanctuary. Rain was good; it hid his tears. His legs crossed, his hands rested in his lap as he sat upright, quietly weeping to himself. His brother, his own flesh and blood, his idol... he'd held him so high and now the halo had been shattered in the cruellest of ways. Through the eyes of a stranger, the very person he'd wanted to kill, he had seen his brother commit the most horrible of acts and all the illusions that Regnak had dreamt up had been shattered, the shards burying themselves ever deeper into his heart.

The rain continued to fall, each droplet glimmering translucently in the morning sun. He had nearly killed someone who had been so wronged by his kinsman; nearly eradicated the soul of someone who'd already been defiled beyond reason. That wasn't right; it shouldn't have been that way. To take the life of an innocent... no, that was inhuman. Worse than inhuman even... it was the very blight of all that is humanity. And it was all because of one person, one person who'd wanted Callo Merlose dead for their own gain. He had been used; no more than a puppet to whoever had been pulling his strings, his emotions. They had known about his past and exploited it, hurting him more than he could have ever imagined.

The day before Regnak had made himself cold, focusing on the one thing that could make everything better, or at least, not quite as bad. He'd been out on the streets doing... research. Yes, that's what he'd call it. Research. He had a name and that was all he needed. With that, he'd trace down the source and then...

The weapons he normally carried with him lay inside, resting upon his bed. No, Regnak would need no weapons at this juncture in time. One more time for certain, but after that? He hoped not. Maybe he could retire to the lush countryside that filled Valendia, living a life of quiet solitude Maybe find a small village to settle down in, a kind woman to take as his wife and a role in life more suited to the light side of his soul... Regnak Drummonds head was full of 'maybes', each one creating its own new pathway of imagination, a new dream that could be one day visited. One thing stopped him, one thing held him from his hopes, one thing blocked his path into a new life. No, this would not do at all; it had to be rectified...

And then he was gone, his requiem upon the rooftop ended and the weapons on his bed now safely in place upon his person. He walked through the streets, occasionally bumping soldiers with people but it didn't matter. They paid him no heed and he did likewise, continuing on his way. He now knew the day before had been spent wisely; inside his head was the information he needed to finish this once and for all.

It was so clear to him like the rain drops that still fell from the sky; each one containing the light and the dark in one. With every blessing comes a curse; with every shower of praise comes a torrent of abuse; with every flood comes a drought... he would be doing something that was both wrong and right at the same time. A double-edged sword indeed...

The sun had reached its zenith in the sky when Regnak finally arrived. From where he stood, he could see most of Valein; the only distraction from the view was the constant cooing coming from the pigeons in the aviary behind him. But it was this aviary that he had been looking for; the messages had been sent by carrier pigeons and he'd tracked them back to here. Now he only had to wait, and waiting was something he had gotten exceedingly good at.

* * *

Adren heard the sneers but he ignored them. It was nothing new to him; he'd been hearing them all of his life. He'd never spent too long in school, but the time he had passed there had been a period of constant torment. It wasn't his fault; it was never his fault. He was one of God's special children and for that he was singled out and hated by everyone else. They were jealous of his individuality, that's what his mother told him. They treated him so because they envied him. Whenever she said that, she always had tears in her eyes, each one ringing out the lie in her words. Somehow he'd actually believed that back then; everyone wants to believe they're special, that they're different from the masses.

No, everyone takes the piss out of a hunchback; that's all they're good for. They're not really human but not anything else either. They're deformed, freaks, incomplete. This was the reality of Adren's life and the reason he had fled to the church when his parents had died. Of course, he never told anyone how his parents died, that was his secret and his alone. No, no one was to know of how he'd throttled them both in their sleep. He didn't do it because he was a bad person, he did it because it was the only way he could escape, to break free of the tyranny they had placed upon him. He didn't like himself for what he had done but he knew it had been necessary for his own survival. He didn't seek forgiveness for it since he knew he could never forgive himself; it wasn't their fault they were cursed with a cripple such as he, they just couldn't cope with him.

So Adren ignored the sneers and the cajoling coming from the shadows as he loped down the street past the back alleys. They all knew who he was and knew not to touch him or they'd have his wrath upon them and they knew that they definitely didn't want that.

Stairs were always a pain to Adren but he did this for his new master. For him he'd do anything since he'd given him life again. He allowed him to be himself, to not have to worry about the weight of his hunch and how it would make people react to him. No, sneers could easily be ignored; living your life to the fullest couldn't. His lower back and legs ached as he hauled himself up the final flight of stairs. He came up here every day; it was good exercise but more importantly, his beloveds lived up here. He'd been most distressed when Bess hadn't come back, but then, what do you expect when dealing with assassins? He still didn't understand why the Cardinal had gone to him but his was not to ask questions of his betters and the Cardinal was most certainly that.

Opening the door, sunlight poured down upon him. In front of him was the wire cage framed with wood that was the home for his beloveds. Almost as one they cooed in welcome to their master but that was to be short-lived. As the door closed behind Adren, an ominous shadow fell upon him as a strange odour filled his nose.

"I wouldn't try anything if I were you. I've a bowgun aimed straight for your heart."

Adren shrugged slowly.

"Oh, and I covered the aviary with kerosene. One spark and all your pigeons roast."

"Bastard..." Adren hissed underneath his breath.

"Yes, but I prefer not to discuss my parentage with the likes of you. All I want is the answer to one question."

"Ask and ye may receive. Proverbs 2:14."

"Who are the messages from?"

"What messages?"

An arrow flew towards the aviary, hitting the floor a mere few centimetres away.

"Ah, those messages... why do you want to know?"

This time the arrow plunged into the wooden frame, drawing a sharp breath from the hunchback.

"The cardinal! The cardinal ordered me to send the messages!"

"The cardinal... what would he gain by Inquisitor Merlose's death? With the decimation of the Crimson Blades, he needs to retrieve power somehow... but how are they linked?" Slowly, Regnak shook his head. "One last thing; look behind the aviary."

Turning around and keeping his eye on Regnak, Adren loped backwards with some difficulty to behind the aviary. What he found there was something he most definitely hadn't been expecting; a puddle of liquid lay on the floor, its stench violating every cell of his being.

"B... but..."

"I'm not a monster. Once I was, but you could say I've rediscovered my humanity. I don't kill indiscriminately... Your pigeons were never in any danger. Sorry for the pretence."

When Adren turned around, Regnak was gone; the door creaking slowly closed. Shaking his head at his betrayal, Adren walked to the aviary and watched the birds for a moment. He liked birds; they carried the hope of a better tomorrow upon their wings...

* * *

Night was coming but still the rain wasn't abating; its drumming incessant upon the roofs of all the surrounding buildings. He stood at the window, his hands resting on the sill as he took in the chill of the evening. It invigorated him, suffusing him with a feeling of power and closeness to God. Yes, he liked the breeze; it carried the memories of time with it. He hadn't always controlled such vast power and authority; he'd started out as a humble priest, wandering the length and breadth of Valendia, preaching the word of God. But war came and he was forced to defend what he believed in. When the frontline had moved into the streets of Valein, he'd been dragged with it and ended up falling in love with the city. When the war had finally been settled, he'd received a promotion and found a place he could truly call home... and now here he was, the cardinal of Valendia's capital and the head of the church. The loss of the Crimson Blades in Leá Monde was a devastating blow but with the ancient Kildean powers that Ashley Riot held... he would need no army, nor a God to stock his faith in. He would be the god instead...

He turned from his window-side requiem and returned to his desk, his long red robes swaying gently as his strides took him across the room. Taking a tinderbox, he sparked it, giving the room an eerie glow. Lighting a candle with it, he laid it on his desk before sinking into his chair. It had been made centuries ago for the high priest of the Iocus brotherhood, hand-carved lovingly from rosewood; it was still in fine condition even after several centuries of wear and tear upon it. However, he couldn't let his mind rest on such things; thoughts would only lead him back into giddy anticipation of the power that would be his. Nay, he would write a discourse upon the war that was responsible for all that had happened to him afterwards. As he reached for the quill that sat in an inkpot upon his desk, the candle spluttered out.

_Odd, I don't recall lea--_

"For a man of such immense importance that he can use and abuse anyone he chooses, you really should be ashamed of your security."

Cardinal Batiste drew himself upright, refusing to turn and face the intruder. "I am a man of God, what need for security have I?"

"Man of God indeed..." A glistening globule of phlegm flew past the Cardinal's left arm, smashing into the desk, leaving streaks of spit across the fine upholstery. "No true man of God would toy with the lives of those who are their betters."

"And you consider yourself better me 'assassin'?" the last word carrying a heavy inflection.

"No, but certainly not worse. I may have sold my morals years ago, but I never sold my soul for personal gain."

"Ahh, spoken like a true VKP hound. Tell me Regnak Drummond, do you miss killing in the name of 'their' law?"

"Even the VKP are better than you and your corrupt religion. All you do is create false hope and then laugh as you watch the common people toil hard for you in blissful ignorance."

"To wit, by the same hand the VKP give the people a false sense of belief that they shall be protected; leaving them content to work towards giving the VKP even more control over their lives."

"This is neither here nor there. I came here for two things. First, I want to know why you want Callo Merlose dead." But silence and a stare were the only responses he received. "Or I could resort to violence. That's always fun."

"_I think not assassin!_" he heard the Cardinal say without moving his lips. It took a few seconds for him to realise that the Cardinal had spoken them telepathically... and then the pain began.

What started as a low whine slowly grew in pitch, its intensity shaking the insides of his skull. White lights flared in his eyes as Regnak dropped to his knees, clutching his ears. Staggering back to his feet, he tried to focus on drawing his bowgun. Sweat rolled from his brow, plummeting to the floor as he slowly raised his right arm. He tried to take arm but he couldn't see clearly; his vision was blurred and continually distorted by the flaring lights in his eyes. The Cardinal still stood where he was, but Regnak could no longer train a shot upon him properly. Squeezing the trigger in hope, a bolt flew across the room, missing Batiste by nearly a meter. It flew across the room, striking a small oil lamp affixed to the wall. As it fell to the floor, it shattered, oil spilling everywhere as the metal sparked, setting it alight.

Regnak dropped the bowgun, instead drawing a gladius. Staggering forwards, he aimed a kick at the Cardinal's chair, sending it crashing into the wall a few meters to his left where it burst into tattered fragments.

"_...and just what do you hope to accomplish with that pig-sticker? You VKP never know when to give up do you? Let me make it easier for you to decide._" With that, Cardinal Batiste raised his hands, an orange glow growing around them. Quickly, flames started dancing around them, growing into a large ball of fire. Realising what was happening; Regnak dived to his left, the fireball just missing him, smashing against the window, liquid flames spraying everywhere. As Regnak landed on his shoulder, he started to roll but pain flared up. Struggling to his feet, he yanked a chunk of wood from it, hot blood pumping forth from the fresh wound. As he looked up, he could no longer see the Cardinal at all.

"Not willing to admit defeat?" came a sibilant whisper at his right ear. Spinning around, he slashed with his blade, only meeting air; the Cardinal wasn't there.

"SHOW YOURSELF YOU BASTARD!" he screamed, wanting nothing more than the blood of the man who'd lied to him. His own life mattered no more to him, retribution was all he craved.

"_As you wish..._" Batiste appeared across the room from him, merely standing there, the ever-growing flames flickering around him. Screaming a cry of rage, Regnak threw himself across the room, running as fast as he could, the Cardinal still just standing there. As the blade came flying downwards, the Cardinal suddenly flickered. He no longer stood just before Regnak, but to his left. Regnak spun, the sword slicing through the smoke-filled air but again the Cardinal flickered. For nigh on a minute, the Cardinal danced around the ex-Riskbreaker, Regnak's attacks never meeting flesh. Finally giving up, Regnak sunk to his knees, hanging his head in defeat. The old mans powers were just too strong, he couldn't touch him...

A hand gently came to rest upon the top of Regnak's head. "Ready to give up now assassin?"

Regnak mumbled something but the Cardinal couldn't make it out. "Speak again; I'm afraid my hearing is fading with old age," he asked as he leant inwards.

The assassin looked up, staring straight into Batiste's eyes, defiance shining in his irises. "Never." He drove his right hand forward, the gladius sliding into the Cardinals stomach right up the hilt. Regnak forced himself to his feet one final time, placing a hand on the Cardinals shoulder for support.

"Riskbreakers don't give up until they're dead, you know that." Slowly, he forced the blade upwards, tearing through Batistes organs, hot, sticky blood spraying across both himself and the room. Finally pushing the old man from the blade, Regnak watched the corpse fall backwards onto the floor. With a tight-lipped grin of satisfaction, Regnak turned to the door but found his legs would no longer support him. Toppling to the floor, he clawed along the plush carpet, tearing it from its fitting to the walls. Pieces of the ceiling started falling as the very structure of the building shuddered, the flames having spread throughout the cathedral.

As the life drained from his shattered body, Regnak rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Flames licked at it as more and more fragments began their swan dives to the floor. Slowly his eyes flickered closed, his vision fading from red and white to grey and finally to black. His last thoughts were whether he'd see his brother in the next world...


	18. Perpetual Flux

**Chapter 17 - Perpetual Flux**

Sondra sat in the dark, her weight upon the bed barely evident. For three days and three nights she had watched over Callo. Today was Sunday and she was exhausted. Whatever had happened on Thursday had caused her lover so much pain that she was no longer herself, but getting sense out of Inquisitor Merlose was impossible. She was in the throes of madness itself; three times Sondra had found Callo trying to kill herself. Her own arms were covered in scabs where the knife had nicked her skin while trying to wrest the blade from Merlose. No, The new Callo Merlose no longer wished to live. Was it the humane thing to stop her from committing suicide? Sondra wasn't so sure...

She found herself being drawn ever closer to sleep but she wouldn't allow that to happen. No, she loved Callo and would do anything to stop her from killing herself. She had fallen asleep on the Thursday night and she nearly paid dearly for that. Luckily it had been a light sleep; she had awoken when Callo had dropped the knife; the numb fingers releasing the blade as blood pumped from her wrists. Sondra had bound them tightly with wool, the fabric quickly stained red as Callo tried to die, but the Pretender refused her this.

Sondra was at her wits end; she knew she wouldn't last much longer and then it would all be over. No, she had to find some way around this; she couldn't do it alone, but whom could she take Callo to? Dejamir was dead by her own hands and Agent Riot had disappeared... there was no one to turn to except...

* * *

Grand Stewart Le Sait was sat at his desk as usual. So much paperwork and so little time, this was how it always seemed to go. Oh, how he longed for some action once more... back in his youth, he had been a Riskbreaker himself. Admittedly, the VKP didn't carry the word of honour like it did today, but it was nonetheless fulfilling to him. Back then, he had lived a life of action. Blood, gore and women... who could ask for more? Riskbreakers these days didn't know what they were missing out on, not at all.

He laid the quill to rest upon the desk and leant back in his chair, a large sigh escaping his lips. Today was to be just as any other day it seemed. Maybe he'd call Margaret in again... but then, maybe he wouldn't; she didn't seem to help him much these days. Maybe he should find someone new to fill her position? She'd be serving the Grand Stewart of the Valendian Knights of Peace; what higher honour could there be? No woman would refuse him...

The Grand Stewart shook his head; such flights of fancy would take him nowhere fast. Women, as ridiculous as it was to believe, for the most part actually held that they could refuse him sexual favours. In Margaret he had found someone different, someone special. She was willing to sell herself to him wholesale; she truly believed that she was merely helping a great person to relax... but that was actually true, wasn't it? Le Sait was indeed a great person and he was soon to become the greatest person ever. Admittedly, things hadn't worked out exactly as he had planned, but they were still most definitely in his favour; Cardinal Batiste was dead in the fire of Valein's Cathedral, the entire Bardorba line had been eradicated, Ashley Riot was nowhere to be found and Callo Merlose... well, she was about to drop into his lap.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a brisk knock upon his door. "Yes?"

The door opened to his office and there stood Margaret. "There are... uhm... two women to see you."

"Please, show them through Margaret." He watched her blush as he addressed her by her first name; this pleased him. And in walked Sondra Felsham, helping the forlorn figure of Callo Merlose through the door...

He stood from his desk and rushed towards the pain, mock horror upon his face. "What happened here?"

"It's a long story sir," began Pretender Felsham. And so it began...

* * *

His eyes flickered open and the world that met them was not quite what he had expected. He saw a ceiling; thickly clotted plaster marked the stucco print that made the texture that coated it. He had thought that when his eyes finally opened again, he'd see a sky covered in deepest red, the screams of the tortured quickly filling his ears... but this was not to be the case, not at all. In fact, it was nearly... quiet.

Regnak tried to sit up, but pain flooded his head, forcing him back to the refuge of the plain sheets that adorned the bed he lay upon. He was in a bedroom... but how did he get here? It was obviously owned by someone who didn't have a lot of money; the décor was incredibly tacky, what there was of it. No, this couldn't be one of the four properties he owned inside Valein. But something else was nagging at him... there was no way he had crawled from the Cathedral to here... someone had helped him.

And then a noise reached his ears, the first noise for over half a day. A door opening. In popped a figure he recognised yet he couldn't quite put a name to.

"Ashley?"

A sigh came from the visitor's lips before they finally spoke. "No, it's not Ashley." A face appeared in Regnak's vision. A small face; eyes dominated by the pitch-black pupils which were themselves shrouded in the rolls of fat that came from their face. No hair; this... man shaved regularly... or maybe it just refused to grow?

"It's me, Adren."

Slowly memories filtered back to the ex-Riskbreaker, Regnak Drummond. Fire burning as he coughed up blood. Weight upon his chest, pushing ever downwards upon it. A lack of air reaching his lungs... finding it hard to breathe. Then, the pressure was lifted... nay, hurled from his body. Something gripped him and slung him over it's back. He remembered it being an odd feeling, not like the last time someone had carried him across heir back... not since Ashley had done so in the Graylands...

"You... you saved me?" he rasped; his throat still feeling harsh from the ash he had inhaled as the Cathedral had burned down to the ground around him. "W... Why?"

"For now, that is not important. Just be well Assassin. Be well indeed..."


	19. Fragments Of Darkness

**Chapter 18 - Fragments of Darkness**

He awoke to the noise of crockery shattering; the tinkling sound reaching his ears as each shard danced upon the ground. _What time is it?_ Rolling out of the bed, Ashley drew the curtains and found himself bathed in sunlight. It was nearly noon already; he'd missed the morning, something Riskbreakers such as himself never did... A frown sneaked its way across his face. _Riskbreaker? Where on earth did I get the idea I'm a Riskbreaker?_

Shaking his head, he prepared himself for the day. He only had a few days holiday left and he intended to make the most of them. Slipping the white burnoose over his head, he went downstairs to investigate.

Marco was in the kitchen picking up the pieces of a shattered plate, while Tia looked on, a wry smile upon her face.

"Maybe I should let him do the washing next time, not the drying? We seem to lose most of our plates this way."

"Wasn't my fault," the young boy muttered sullenly while picking up the last of the plate fragments.

"Anyway, what are we doing today Tia?"

"Well, I have a few errands to run first. Shouldn't take more than two hours to do," she replied.

"Well, what about you Marco?" he asked, turning to face the boy who'd just finished putting the broken plate into the bin.

"Aww dad, I've got football today. They're counting on me!"

"Well, in that case, you can't let them down, can you? I guess I'll find something to do whilst waiting for your mum to get back."

And then they were gone. He wasn't quite sure how they had disappeared so quickly, but the fact remained that they had. Fragments of memory told him that they had said goodbye and left through the front door but he couldn't quite remember the details. Ashley found it puzzling and ever so slightly worrying. What was going on with his memory?

No, it didn't matter. He loved Tia and Marco and that was all that was important to him. Yet it nagged at him... Shaking his head, Ashley went through the back door and out into the small garden attached to their house. If nothing else, he'd keep himself doing something at least. Stripping off his burnoose, he lay down on the ground stomach first, his hands just below his shoulders. Easily, he pushed himself upwards, extending his arms to full stretch and holding it, before lowering himself slowly to the ground, the lush grass tickling his face. Again, he praised his body before letting it return to the ground. He repeated the process a further hundred and ninety-eight times before lowering himself to the ground one final time. He paused for a few seconds before rolling over, onto his back; staring up at the blue sky that cloaked the world above him. He lay there for a good few minutes, staring up at the boundary of his reality. It seemed so peaceful; fluffy white clouds gently sailed around while the blue stood still, as it would for eternity. A soft sound reached his ears; relaxed breathing as someone stood in the garden with him. Someone unafraid. Bringing his legs up to his chest, he flipped himself to his feet.

And there he was, face to face with this stranger. She was nearly a whole foot shorter than him, a curious face looking at him, bordered by short blonde hair that came to the bottom of her nose.

"Just what do you think you are doing?"

Ashley paused, the sheer boldness of the question stunning him. "What the hell are you doing in my garden?"

"Yours? This garden doesn't belong to you. It doesn't even exist anymore. You're standing in a patch of dirt, can't you see that?"

Ashley looked down at his feet and sure enough, the grass had gone, to be replaced by the dull earth. He looked up and the house was no longer a sparkling white; its walls were crumbling, moss growing fervently in the darkest areas as it fell into ruins.

"You honestly didn't realise what was going on, did you? It seemed so real, you couldn't believe that it was false..."

"Who the hell are you? And what the hell's going on here!" Ashley exploded, his fists clenched at his sides.

"You don't even remember me... how convenient." She stepped forwards, drawing a deep breath, the rose tattoo on her left breast swelling. "I died for you and you don't remember me..."

"TELL ME!"

He didn't even see it coming; her open palm smashed into his left cheek, the pain stinging. Rage poured through his body and he swung a fist at her, only for it to pass straight through her.

"What's happening..."

"You're trapped and you don't even know it. I'm not sure if I can help you Ashley. Just remember, there's a reason for everything that happens. Don't run from it; embrace it. That's as much as I can tell you for now. When you're ready, just call my name and I will be there. Then you can learn the truth..."

"How do you know me? Who are you!" he cried, but to no avail. She turned away from him and started walking as her body faded. She paused and took one last look back, sorrow filling her eyes, before walking through the wall. Ashley ran to the backdoor, pulling it open and leaping inside, but she was nowhere to be seen. Slowly Ashley sank to his knees, her words running through his head again and again. _You're trapped and you don't even know it..._

* * *

Tia opened the front door and walked in, her bag now full of groceries she had picked up in the local market. Silence greeted her when she entered, but that was to no surprise. He was probably in the back, exercising. He spent so much time doing that these days it was a wonder he had time for herself and Marco. Making her way to the kitchen, she put the fresh groceries into the pantry before stealing a glance out of the window, but he wasn't there. Had he gone back to bed? It'd be odd for him to do so; he normally stuck to his daily routine as much as he could.. It was odd enough that she had risen before him but for Ashley to be asleep at nearly two in the afternoon... despite it being the middle of his leave from the VKP. Maybe he was just stressed out from the constant training. Yes, that must be it...

Finished stocking the larder, she made her way upstairs to their bedroom. She still blushed when she thought of it as '_their_' bedroom; she had inherited the house from her parents and she always felt their presence whenever she was indoors. She opened the door as quietly as she could, to save waking Ashley, but he wasn't there; the bed lying empty, sheets lying strewn across it. _Where on earth is h--_, she thought before noticing the open window. Slinging the bag into a random corner, she walked over to it, looking both to the left and right, but there as no sign of him. Impulse drove her as she stepped up onto the windowsill before turning around and taking a firm grip of the roofing. Putting all of her strength into it, she hauled herself upon it; her husband coming into view. He didn't turn to look at her as she herself heard her puffs of exertion. Inside her, she raged. _Here I am, suffering for him and he won't even acknowledge me..._ She scrambled to the apex of the roof and stood one foot either side of it.

"Why are you on the roof darling?" She tried to keep her voice as calm as possible.

"Watching the world go by."

"And why are you doing that Ashley?"

"I want to see if it's real. Something very strange happened today and I don't know what to make of it other than either I'm going crazy or you don't exist."

He felt her hand come to rest upon his forehead for a few seconds. He felt it withdraw. He heard her voice speaking to him. He heard her say that he had a fever.

Fever? That made sense... Why else would he have slept in late? He'd exerted himself and then started seeing things... of course, it all made sense.

"Is this real? I don't know; it seems to be so strange and surreal to me all of a sudden. I think it was the day of the picnic... it's not seemed quite right since then."

"Ashley, you're scaring me."

"Am I? Am I really? Are you even really there to be able to feel fear? I don't know anymore..." Ashley shook his head to himself and gazed down upon the street laid out beneath him. An arm slipped over his right shoulder, a second coming around his chest. Slowly he sunk into Tia's embrace.

"Real or not, I'm here for you Ashley. Whether to you I exist or not, my love will always be real. I love you Ashley Riot." He felt her head come to rest between his shoulder blades, nestling inside the shallow divot. "Here and now, I won't leave you Ashley. I'll never leave you..."


	20. Reasoning Of The Diseased

**Chapter Nineteen - Reasoning of the Diseased**

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because... lawks, this is difficult to explain. You killed my master yet I do not want you dead. I had my suspicions but... I refused to believe that Cardinal Batiste could be fallible, that he could be evil, that he could be insane. He saved me; I was indebted to him. And then I saw what he truly was when you were lying on the floor, all cut up like that. No good man could do that to another, even in self-defence. No, Cardinal Batiste was not a good person. At least, he wasn't near the end. I remember when I first came to his small church on Sanction Road. He took me in and gave me a good life. He was a kind man, but then... as he got more and more power in the church, he became more and more troubled. I knew what was happening but I refused to admit it to myself. I didn't want him to change, so to me, he didn't."

Regnak just lay there listening, most of his body covered in bandages. There wasn't much else that he could do, he was still too weak to get out of bed. That very fact was slowly driving him mad; Ashley had saved him twice now and he needed to repay that debt. Whatever it was that was going on, he owed his life to his fellow ex-Riskbreaker, that and his soul. When Ashley showed him the truth, Regnak realised how close he had come to murdering an innocent. No, Regnak had to help Ashley...

"Why did Batiste change? From what you say, he sounds like he was a good person, but the man I killed in the Cathedral most certainly wasn't."

Adren wrung his hands, staring down at them as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. "I... don't know. It was a gradual process, I'm sure of that. If he had just changed into another person, just like that, I'd have known. I wouldn't have believed it was really Cardinal Batiste at all. No, it was a gradual process; bit by bit he slowly changed..."

"Something had warped him, sucked the sanity from his soul. Batiste was a good man, but he was corrupted by something... is that about it Adren?"

A muted nod was the only response from the hunchback.

Silence overcame the room, before Regnak broke it. "How long 'til I can get out of this godforsaken bed?"

"I'd say three or four more days to be on the safe side, but you'd probably be alright in two."

_"Two days..." Two days until I'm coming Ashley. Two more days and that's it..._

* * *

Tears were all that seemed to be forthcoming from both of them, except for the occasional strangled sob and rush of words from the blonde. The brunette just lay there, crying, mourning the loss of her eyes. She wore a bandage wrapped around her head, covering her ocular cavities, while her arms and legs were bound to the table by leather restraints.

This wasn't supposed to have happened; they were destined to be together forever and live happily in eternal bliss. How it had come to this VKP Observer/Pretender Sondra Felsham didn't quite know, but then, it didn't really matter. Chaos ruled supreme inside the confines of her mind and there was no hope of retribution from the darkness that bound her.

No, it wasn't meant to be this way...

Footsteps came from behind Sondra, but she didn't react to them; she was far too wrapped up in her grief and sorrow. Even when the hand came to rest on her shoulder, she didn't pay much heed to it. She just wanted the pain to stop, for her and Callo to be together forever. She didn't turn around to see Grand Stewart Le Sait standing behind her; she just didn't care. The tears were everything to her...


	21. The Shattering Of Sanctuary

**Chapter 20 - The Shattering of Sanctuary**

The crickets were chirruping and the wind whistling, but the human factor of the evening was strangely silent. Ashley sat on the grass that was growing ever damper with dew, his knees drawn up against his chest. The back garden of their... no, his house, was shrouded in darkness; not just that of the absence of light, but that of the absence of a heart as well. He sighed, trying desperately to fight back the tears, but failing. He'd been out here since the previous night when they arrived.

He rose to his feet stiffly, twinges of pain flaring in his knees as they straightened out for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours. Ashley turned around to face the house once more, almost gagging at the sight of blood dried onto the inside of the windows. Shaking his head, trying to ignore the nausea building up in the pit of his stomach, he walked to the back door. Reaching out with a hand to twist the handle, he noticed the blood that stained it. Gripping the handle, flakes of dried blood fell from his skin, but he ignored it, opening the door and stepping inside; stepping on a stray limb. His eyes trailed up the arm, to a body with no head. The pale white dress it wore was stained red, the image of purity gone, only to be replaced by death and corruption. He was standing on Tia's arm...

_Hands... I need to clean my hands..._

Dumbly, he walked to the sink, and started pumping the lever, water gushing forth from the tap. Reaching out with both hands, he cupped them to capture water before bringing it to his face, letting it try and wake him from his requiem. Shaking his head, he started to rub his hands together, the dried blood quickly turning the water red as it peeled away from his skin.

Finally satisfied the blood was gone, Ashley turned to survey the kitchen once more. Tia's body lay by the door where she had nearly got it open and escaped into the outside world before her head had been separated from her shoulders, it now lying a few feet away, staring up at him, her eyes recriminating. "_You should have been here... you should have stopped them..._" She had been dead when he came in.

Pinned to the doorframe was a man dressed all in black, a scimitar sticking through his chest into the wall behind him. This was the man who had killed his wife; a black mask covered his face, hiding his eyes from the world. In what remained of the front room, smashed chairs and bloodstains, not to mention the corpses, marked the scene of a fight. Three dead men and one child...

Ashley dropped to his knees, next to Marco's corpse. The knife was still in his chest, the mortal wound having clotted a long time ago. One hand held the child's body to his, the other cupping Marco's head as Ashley cried. His body shook in agony, tears streaming down his face, dashing themselves upon the blood-sodden corpse he held in his arms. He could hear him laughing as he ran around in the back garden, the sheer joy and happiness of being young so evident in his voice; the wide grin plastered across his face... all gone. Never again...

"It's your fault, you know, Ashley?" came her voice from behind him.

"Do you think I honestly don't realise that? If I'd been here a few minutes earlier..."

The voice gave a heavy sigh, followed by a brief pause. "That's not what I meant, and deep inside, you know it to be true."

"You're saying that I caused this; that my wife and child's deaths happened because of something I did?"

"No, not what you did Riskbreaker Riot..."

And there was that word again, Riskbreaker. He wasn't a Riskbreaker; he knew that he was just a footman in the army. But still...

"Ashley, you know the truth even if you are afraid to admit it to yourself."

Gently laying his sons body to the floor, Ashley rose to his feet, his head bowed. "What the hell are you babbling on about ghost..."

"Hell? No. Purgatory, yes." She walked around Ashley, skirting Marco's corpse to stand the other side of it, across from Ashley. "This is your purgation. This... ruin," she said, as she gestured with her hand, the walls fading away to be replaced with rubble. "This is not your home. No one has lived here in seven years, not since you burned it down in a fit of rage. That fire spread out to the neighbouring homes along this street... do you know how many people died in that fire Ashley? How many couples were split asunder because of that; how many children were burnt alive because of your rash actions? You didn't even care..."

The tears wouldn't stop running down his face. "Please, just leave me alone..."

"Don't you want to know who did this, Riskbreaker Riot? Don't you want to know who killed your wife and child?" She gestured to the black-clad man, pinned to the doorframe behind him. "Don't you want to know who tore your life apart? Remove his mask Riskbreaker, and see the truth for yourself..."

He didn't really care for they were all dead, but nevertheless, his limbs took him towards that foul offenders corpse, in stiff, jerky movements. His hand reached out, achingly slowly, to take a grip of the black mask that covered most of its face. He paused, unsure of whether he really wanted to do this; what end would it accomplish? They were all dead already...

Closing his eyes, he pulled the mask away. When he opened them again, he was staring at his own face. The corpses eyes opened, revealing pale green irises, laughter dancing inside the pupils, as it spoke. "The bitch and the brat are both dead. You're free my brother..."

With a cry of rage, Ashley seized the handle of the scimitar that jutted from his doppelgangers corpse and heaved upwards, twisting his body away to give extra momentum into the movement, the blade crashing upwards through the ribcage and smashing the skull into pieces. Ashley fell down to one knee, panting hard as he tried to block it all from his brain. "This can't be happening, it can't be real..."

He rose to his feet once more, his chest heaving.

"There's still three others Ashley; don't you want to know who they are?" She still stood on the other side of Marco's corpse, her head cocked to one side as her blond hair splayed itself over one shoulder.

Silently he moved, going down on one knee by the first corpse. As he reached for the mask with one hand, still holding the scimitar in his other, he already knew whose face would be behind it. His. Removing the mask, he went to the next corpse, repeating the process, and then the third. His face stared up at him each time, malicious grins upon their faces as they mocked him for failing. And then... they stood up.

"NO!"

As the first one lumbered towards him, Ashley swung the curved blade lopping its head off. As it fumbled around, waving its hands through where its head had once been, the second one came up behind Ashley. Spinning around and dropping to one knee, he sliced its leg off, causing it to topple onto the floor. The third one was virtually upon him, as Ashley rose to his feet, the scimitar flashing in the firelight as it rose to slice the corpse in half, a diagonal slash across the body sending the upper torso flying across the room.

The blade dropped from his loose fingers. "This can't be happening, it can't be real..."

"Ashley, look about you. Are you saying that what you see does not exist, just because you don't want it to?"

His back flared in pain, a pattern of fire dancing across his flesh, forcing him to his hands and knees. Drool ran from his lips as his whole body shook, convulsions wracking his stomach as he started to dry-heave.

"Pain is the gateway to truth Ashley; see through the pain and find the truth on the other side."

They came for him; one cleaved in half from the stomach upward, one without a head, one with no legs and one with just the one. They clustered around him, beating upon him with their fists, trying to knock him to the floor, but he was rigid now; unmoving. Slowly he started to crawl towards Marco's corpse, their persistent blows doing almost nothing to hinder him. As he reached out one hand to touch the young boys corpse, his body finally gave in to his assailants, strength deserting his other arm, making him collapse onto the floor. Curling himself up, he took a deep breath...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Straightening from the waist upwards, Ashley arched his back, his arms thrown out either side of his body. He squeezed his eyes shut in agony, so much so that his inner vision turned white.

The pain faded away, leaving nothingness in its place...

He opened his eyes and they were all gone. No corpses trying to kill him, no wife and child's eyes recriminating, no furniture or walls... just her, still watching him with that inquisitive look upon her face, her head now cocked to the other side.

"What is going on, ghost?"

"Samantha. My name is Samantha. And I already told you, this is your purgation."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm not doing anything, except trying to help you through this. You're the one who put yourself here. You're the one doing all of this..."

"Why are you... helping me then?"

"Our souls are linked; you cannot escape me like I can't escape you, not since I died for you. Not since Leá Monde..."

"Leá... Monde?"

"He pushed me from the rooftop. I fell all the way from the crested peak of Leá Monde's cathedral, to be dashed upon the ground. My body died that day, three weeks ago, but my soul... that has been captured by the dark magick of the Iocus brotherhood, captured and then bonded to you. I died for your ascension, for you to become the..." The look in her eyes was one that was almost pure disgust, yet there was a faint tinge of pity in it. "...to become the man you are now. If you don't figure out what to do now, then my death will have been for naught; our purposes shall be unfulfilled."

"And what is my purpose Samantha?"

"Let me tell you a story Riskbreaker Riot, the story behind why you are here today.

"Centuries ago, Armageddon began. Lucifer and his horde attacked God and his pantheon of angels; a fierce battle was wrought out on the ephemeral plains and in the end, all that was left was God and Lucifer. The two entered into the final battle to decide the fate of the human world and Lucifer was defeated and killed. However, God sustained a mortal injury, and in his dying throes, he passed on his power to a newborn human. That human was Jesus Christ.

"Thirty years later, Jesus Christ died on the cross in Golgotha. A Roman centurion plunged a spear into his side and the power was passed onto him. That centurion was named Longinus and he carried the curse for over three hundred years before he finally tired of immortal life. He passed on his gift to a young woman, a dancer. Her name was Müllenkamp.

"Realising the power that she had been given, and the enormity of the situation, she used her powers for good. Within time, she had built up a following; a cult if you will. And then she had a vision and gave a prophecy. This power would ultimately lead to the death of the human race for it would fall into the wrong hands eventually, but that one person would come and they would know how to end the power. Müllenkamp was at a loss for she knew not how to undo the power. Realising that if she didn't know, she had to find someone else who did, she passed on her gift.

"Since then, the gift has been transferred countless times while the Müllenkamp cult died out. Eventually, one Sydney Losstarot received the power and inherited the ability to hear the dead. Müllenkamp spoke to him of the prophecy and Sydney knew what he had to do. He also knew that he was not the one, but that the knowledge of the power he controlled was not limited to only him. Others would come after the power to use for themselves and that this must surely be the time in which the chosen one would come.

"The chosen one did come. His name was Ashley Riot.

"You are the one who will save humanity, but unless you awake from this delusion, you will only doom the world. Wake up Ashley and face your destiny..."

"I don't believe you..."

"You think God isn't dead? You think God would let this happen? The only divine power left in this world is inside of you; you are God now. You did this. Not that it's real, it's all inside of your head. You killed an innocent child and now you're here, trying to run away from that truth, but part of you won't let you do that. It's trying to make you realise you have nothing left to cling to here by killing your wife and child in front of you once more.

"You have to wake up Ashley, don't let our deaths have been in vain. Only you can save us..."

Ashley slowly got to his feet, his limbs hanging limply by his side as if they had lead weights attached to them. "I killed... an innocent child?"

"Yes, you killed Joshua Bardorba, the young child you rescued from Leá Monde with the help of Callo Merlose."

"Callo... Leá Monde..."

Images flashed inside Ashley's mind, bringing white-hot searing pain to him, but he just stood there, taking it all. He saw the wyrm fall through the roof of Duke Bardorba's manor; he saw the golem come to life; he saw Sydney Losstarot lying on the floor, bleeding; he saw the look of horror on Callo Merlose's face when he told her that he would kill her; he saw himself plunge a knife into Duke Bardorba's chest; he saw Joshua Bardorba lying on the ground, the Sin Blade jutting forth from his back...

The images and the pain stopped simultaneously, leaving Ashley standing in a ruined house. Samantha was nowhere to be seen, but a noise could be heard from outside. A figure of a portly man stepped in through what had once been the door.

"What the hell's going on here?" he asked Ashley after spotting him just standing there.

"Nothing yet, but it's about to begin..."


	22. Requiem For Departed Souls

**Chapter 21 - Requiem for Departed Souls**

Rain drifted in, the heavy clouds rolling slowly across the sky, hiding the glorious sun from the dismal world below. The prisms of water dove to the ground, soaking everything that it came into contact with, creating a glistening sheen of wetness over existence. But as quickly as the rain had come, the ephemeral skies became clear once more.

Ashley wished he had it that easy, that the dark, foreboding clouds that hung over his existence would just melt away. No, it could never be easy for Ashley Riot. It seemed like life was playing with loaded dice, every roll ended with him being thrown ever further down the spiral to hell.

But all that would change today. It was the end of the line, the culmination of the last three weeks work. Today, a lot of people would die...

* * *

She knew that they had moved her and she didn't like it, not a single bit. She beat herself into a frenzy, straining against the leather bindings that held her down, but to no avail. She'd never be strong enough to break them; it'd take a blade or the inhuman strength of Ashley...

_Ashley..._

A disturbance echoed in her mind a mere split second before the voices came, defiling her with their words, scratching away at her soul.

A scream erupted from her lungs as her back arched in pain, her arms stretched out flat either side of her body, the fingers splayed out as far apart as possible. Blood trickled from her ears and nose, the agony coursing through each and every vein and artery.

And then the pain was gone, but not without imparting some knowledge first.

"He's here..."

* * *

The screams echo reverberated throughout the halls of what remained of Duke Bardorba's manor, way out in the Graylands. This is where it had all begun just over three weeks ago; Müllenkamp had seized control of it in their fervent search for the Blood Sin, the key to Leá Monde, none of them realising that their leader, Sydney Losstarot, carried it upon the skin of his back. In came the Crimson Blades, led by Romeo Guildenstern, unsanctioned by the VKP. And then there were the last two players in the game; VKP Riskbreaker Ashley Riot and VKP Inquisitor Callo Merlose. As the Crimson Blades moved into the Manor and fighting broke out, Agent Riot used it as cover to get in himself. Stalking through the long halls, he finally found Sydney Losstarot and shot him through the heart with a Bowgun, only for Sydney to get back up and summon a wyrm to hold Ashley off as he escaped towards Leá Monde. This was where the key players had all congregated before moving on into the depths of Leá Monde. This was where the penultimate chapter of the story had begun. And this was to be where it would all end.

As the echo of Callo's screams died out, it was replaced by the sound of thunder rolling over the distant hilltops; the ominous sound booming out far and wide as a lone figure walked across the Graylands in the pouring rain.

From a second floor window, another figure watched the first approach before turning away. Twitching his moustache as he walked, Grand Steward LeSait made his way to the central hall where Callo lay strapped down to a table, Sondra standing over her, pushing the hair from Callo's brow and whispering soothingly to her lover.

The previous day, a runner had tracked them down and delivered a message to LeSait from the VKP high council demanding he returned. He had killed the messenger where he stood and dumped the body in the cellar. Those interfering fools weren't going to get a piece of this and nothing would stop him from getting the power of Leá Monde. Inquisitor Merlose was merely a tool to drag Ashley here, and as for the Pretender... well, he'd just have to dispatch of her...

* * *

He leant down low over the horse's neck as it raced across the plains towards the manor. He could see the small copse of trees surrounding it on the horizon, but he had the aching feeling that he just wouldn't make it in time, however fast his horse carried him. He had to help Ashley; he'd saved him from murdering an innocent and it was a debt that Regnak felt he might never be able to fully repay, but he had to at least try. He owed Ashley his soul.

"C'mon, faster girl!" he cried as the wind wrapped around him, rain soaking into his cloak as it billowed out around him

* * *

"It's alright Callo, everything will be alright. You don't have to worry anymore, I'll take care of you forever..."

Sondra gently ran a damp cloth over Callo's forehead in a desperate bid to calm her down, but her convulsions were becoming more and more frequent with time. Ever since that scream... the Pretender pushed it from her mind as she shook her head, continuing with the soft wiping of Callo's brow.

She still wasn't sure about having Callo bound to the table, but the Grand Steward had said that it was for Callo's own good, so that she couldn't try to kill herself. He spent many an hour with Callo by himself, talking about things, though usually to himself, Sondra believed. Callo hadn't spoken to her in days and she could scarcely believe that LeSait would fare any better.

While Callo looked fairly neat, Sondra having worked hard on keeping her well groomed, the Pretender looked positively dishevelled. Her hair was heavily tangled, her skin almost totally covered in dirt and her nose kept running from a cold she'd caught. She spent all of her time trying to take care of Callo, so much so that she had no time to take care of herself. When Grand Steward LeSait watched over the Inquisitor, Sondra went into the next room and tried to sleep, but always found herself staring up at the ceiling, her mind filled with worries and that image of Callo sat upon her bed, staring at the Pretender with hollow eyes, blood pouring forth, always came to haunt her. _What could have pushed her to that? Why couldn't she ask me for help? God knows, I'd do anything I could for her..._

"**CALLO!**" came a voice from somewhere not far away; Sondra wasn't sure, but the voice... it carried such force, such conviction...

The Grand Steward walked into the room, his eyes meeting the Pretender's. "He's here."

Her eyes opened wide as she realised whom LeSait meant: the Riskbreaker. He was here to kill Callo, to take her away. _This can't be happening..._

"It is," Callo whispered. "It is happening..."

"It's not fair!" Sondra wailed in reply, her hands clenching tightly into fists as they fell by her sides.

"Whoever said death was fair? It comes to us all eventually and now my time is up. Goodbye Sondra; I'll see you in the next world."

Ignoring the fact that Callo had just spoken her first words in days, she turned to the Grand Steward. "Isn't there some way we can stop him from killing Callo!"

LeSait nodded slowly before replying with, "Leave it all up to me. I know just what to do..."

* * *

"**CALLO!**" he cried out as he wrenched the central door from its hinges. While it felt like years, it had only been a little over three weeks since he had sneaked into the manor from the back as the Crimson Blades moved into exterminate the Müllenkamp force that had seized control. Last time he had sneaked through these halls, now he stalked down the corridor, ripping another door away from its frame and casting it away behind him. Nothing could keep him from his purpose, nothing at all.

The pain upon his back was constant now, the Blood Sin etched into his skin flaring up once more. Ever since he had 'awakened', the pain had been with him, but it didn't matter, he could handle it easily. Pain was a friend of his these days, his closest ally. Pain had guided him towards the truth and pain would guide him to freedom from this immortal coil. He liked Callo, he really did and didn't want to have to kill her, but bad things happen to good people; Ashley knew that. Joshua Bardorba was proof enough...

The Riskbreaker didn't bother to unsheathe the sin blade, instead keeping it strapped to his back as he kicked in another door. The room was empty as had been every other one he'd been in before it, but that didn't really surprise him. He could feel her life force, her heartbeat resonating throughout his head, filling his ears with the bass of its pulsations. It had been this that had led him to her; since his awakening, the link had been there and he'd started walking in an undeviating path towards her. No man or woman nor river or mountain would stop him until she died at his hands; it was destined, no escape for either of them. It was as it had always been meant to be.

He knew that Callo was but a mere few rooms away, yet he didn't increase his pace to rush there. It would neither help nor hinder anything by doing so, and as such, he walked as he always had. As the next door swung forcefully on its hinges after yielding to the thrust of his boot, Ashley casually strode through. The pain increased with every step now, but it was not near the level where Ashley would be forced to submit to it, and that he knew. This was his time, his chance, his final reprieve for all the things he'd done in his life. It was already finished.

And at last he came to the final door; this was the one that she was behind. This was the door to his destiny, to his salvation, to the fulfilment of his life's purpose, one that he hadn't even known about for most of his life.

And so he kicked in the door.

* * *

She'd heard the doors flying open as the Riskbreaker had approached, but it still came as a shock when the doors came flying off of their hinges, soaring through the room to crash several meters away from the now wide-open doorway. Well, it would have been wide-open if it weren't for the imposing figure standing where the doors were supposed to be.

Sondra stood on the other side of the table Callo was bound to, forty paces away from where Ashley Riot stood, LeSait beside her, but neither the distance between her and the Riskbreaker nor the Grand Stewarts presence nearby set her at ease. This man was here to take away the woman she loved more than anything else on the planet, and she was afraid, afraid of what would be left for her without Callo in her life.

"Ah, so you've finally arrived Ashley," the Grand Stewart remarked calmly. "Please, make yourself at home my good man. I'm afraid the upholstery seems to have taken somewhat of a battering, but the place is comely enough."

The Riskbreaker was rather more succinct with his words: "Cut the small talk you worm LeSait. You know why I'm here so just hand her over before things get messy."

"And unfortunately, this is where the niceties must come to an end. See, you have something I want, and I have something you want. However, if I give you what you want, I can't get what I want. Ever. Now, that's not really fair, is it? You expect me to give so unselfishly for nothing in return?"

"True, but I'll only take Callo; I'll leave you your life if you just hand her over."

Sondra watched the two of them placidly _negotiating_, her head snapping between the two of them as they took turns to speak. What the hell was LeSait doing? Was he really considering just trading Callo away?

"Well, it seems we have reached an impasse here Ashley, but I know just the thing to settle this." The Grand Stewart pulled out a dagger from his waistband and held it to Callo's throat, as she lay motionless upon the table.

"What do you think you're doing LeSait? Have you lost your mind!" the Observer screeched.

Quick as a flash, the Grand Stewart delivered a backhand to Sondra's face, knocking her to the floor, before turning his attention back to Ashley, still stood in the doorway, forty paces away.

"If you don't give me what I want Ashley, I'll simply slit Callo's pretty little neck, thus killing both her and your plans. Oh yes, I know what you're after Ashley, and I know you have to be the one to end Callo's life to rid yourself of the power within you. I understand it's a terrible burden to carry, but I'm willing to unburden you, to take the power of Leá Monde, of the Gran Grimoire and to set you free of this mortal coil... Save yourself Ashley, save your soul by helping me achieve what I set out to..."

Ashley looked down at his feet, his shoulders trembling as he shook his head. Moments later, his laughter rung out through the crumbling halls.

"People like you are the very reason I was given the power, and why I must destroy it. No one in their right mind would want this curse, would be willing to shoulder the awesome responsibility that comes with it. Why, you'd have to have lost your mind to want it... lost it to the wellspring of Leá Monde, right LeSait?"

"NO!" the Grand Stewart howled, pressing the dagger tighter to Callo's neck; some blood welling up underneath its edge. "NO! NEVER! Leá Monde won't take me like it did Batiste! I'm SANE!"

Riot turned and looked at the cowering Observer. "I hope you're taking notes on this, it's why Callo has done these things to herself. The magic of Leá Monde was never meant for the untrained mind. With every use of the dark arts, it saps a part of that person's soul away, siphoning it off as energy to feed the wellspring, and thus infect more people with its taint. The Iocus brotherhood trained daily to be able to use the powers properly, so that their minds wouldn't become corrupted and fall to insanity. Callo has never trained, and as such, every time she used her heartseer gift, it stole away another part of her essence, turning her into... this," he said as he gestured to the Inquisitor, still bound to the table, a thin rivulet of blood running down her neck. "And the same happened to Cardinal Batiste, as it has Grand Stewart LeSait here," he continued, before Sondra interrupted.

"B... but what about you? Why haven't you gone crazy either?"

"The power of Leá Monde is not just the command of the dark arts, but also all of the knowledge that has gone before. I know how to use the arcane magicks and how to protect myself from the negative aspects. In becoming the bearer of the blood sin, I have effectively undergone all of the training necessary. I am immune to the powers that seek to rid me of my soul. No, that is for me alone to do..."

"Enough of this foolishness!" roared LeSait. "Give me the power or the bitch dies now!"

And that was where Sondra snapped. Rising quickly to her feet, she crash-tackled LeSait, the two of them falling to the floor. A struggle ensued as they rolled about, the dagger still in the Grand Stewart's hand as the Observer tried to wrest it away from him, her left hand tightly gripping the wrist that held the blade. Twisting it as hard she could to force LeSait to drop it; Sondra knew she was fighting a losing battle. She threw a few quick jabs with her free hand into his side but nothing could make him relinquish his grip upon the dagger as he slowly brought it down and around to her side. Grabbing her by the throat, he pushed her upwards, away from his body, her back arching to compensate for the immense force at her neck as he slowly crushed her windpipe, laughing all the while.

Suddenly LeSait's eyes flickered away from her own to something above and behind her, moments before a blade flashed before her eyes, spearing the Grand Stewart through the forehead, a thick gout of blood flying out to cover both her face and chest. His grip upon the dagger and her throat slackened, his arms falling away to lie upon the cold stone floor.

Placing her hands on the floor to steady herself, she stared wide-eyed at the blade before, slowly lifting her head to take it all in; the way it intersected with four other blades before reaching the hilt around which two strong hands were wrapped, hands belonging to Ashley Riot. She scuttled out from underneath the arch of the Riskbreakers body over both her and the late Grand Stewart, to the table where Callo lay. Quickly undoing the leather buckles which held her lover to the table, she threw her arms around Inquisitor Merlose's neck, burying her head into Callo's chest as she wept.

"I didn't know! I didn't know!" she wailed piteously, again and again before a gentle touch upon her cheek brought her back to awareness. Callo slowly wiped away a tear that was running down Sondra's face as she gazed upon her, a small smile upon her face.

"I understand Sunny, I understand. It's not your fault. It's all over now, nothing to worry about anymore..."

Slowly Callo brought Sondra's face up to hers, their lips meeting softly as Callo's hands cupped Sondra's face to hers. With a violent twist, she snapped the Pretender's neck, releasing the corpse and letting it fall limply to the floor.

"No more pain Sunny, that was the least I could do for you..." she whispered quietly, before turning her head to where Ashley stood impassively, watching her closely. "It is time."

"Indeed it is Inquisitor Merlose," he replied calmly, sheathing his sword as he took her hand in his gently, helping her onto her feet. Laying her left arm over his shoulders, she rested her head against his chest as she wearily walked with him through the scarred hallways, out into the open air. The rain had stopped and the skies overhead were now calm, but still overcast with dark and gloomy clouds.

As thunder rumbled towards them with no lightning echoing its rage in the sky, Ashley peered into the gloomy woods that surrounded the destroyed manor. "We have a visitor it seems, but it is time for us to go Callo."

* * *

As Regnak crested the hill, he stopped his horse, pulling on the reins as he looked down upon the two figures standing under the archway that led into the manor's courtyard, solitude wrapped in and around them, partaking in their very essence. Digging his heels in, he spurred the horse into a gallop down the hill towards the figures he knew to be those of Callo Merlose and Ashley Riot, but he already knew it was futile. They watched him approach as the ether slowly enveloped them within its tender embrace, taking them away into the gloom of day that forestalled the inevitable coming of night and the end of the day, the end of everything...

Regnak eased the horse down into a slow walking pace just as he reached the place where they had been standing. The horse was visibly spooked, it's ears flattened down upon its skull, baring its teeth as it brayed to all that would hear him that something unnatural had just happened.

"Is this how it is meant to be Ashley," Regnak whispered to himself, before raising his voice into a hoarse bellow, thrusting his arms out towards the rapidly darkening sky. "Am I to always be chasing after you, after some shade that carries your likeness, but not your true essence? But then... I never really knew you at all, did I? This has all been... futile... meaningless, but still..."

Cutting himself off, he turned his horse around and they cantered back up the incline on their way back to the cold comfort of Valein, only stopping once at the hill's peak. Swivelling in the saddle, Regnak whispered two last words... "Thank you."

* * *

As the evening dusk entwined itself around his heavy limbs, he sat down, his back against a tree as she lay resting against his chest, her eyes closed; a content, serene expression drifting across her face.

_Why is it I always find myself returning here, to this place, this juncture of the two points of my life? I don't even know if it was real or not, whether either even happened at all..._

"What is this place Ashley? What is it to you? I can... sense a feeling of belonging from you here..."

_Why did I bring her here? This place was mine, Tia's and Marco's... that day... NO! SHE DOESN'T BELONG HERE! NOT WITH THEM!_

"Is this... to be the end of it all Ashley? I... think this place would be a nice play to be finally put to rest, to finish my existence once and for all...

_Why is it everyone I love must die here? Why must this grass be continually soaked in the blood of those who have meant something to me; that actually made me care, even in the slightest? Too long have I been devoid of emotion, too long a dead spirit wandering this god-forsaken earth..._

"I don't even know what I'm saying... I can't even see this place; my eyes... I..."

_At least I can do some good things here, a final act of atonement... though it seems to me that attrition is rather more fitting..._

She felt fingers rest upon her closed eyelids, and then... a tingle, building up into blinding pain before it faded away.

"W...what have you--"

"Open your eyes Callo."

"I..." She opened her eyes. "I see nothing..."

"Are you so sure? What we assume to be nothing often conceals many things we knew naught about..."

She swivelled in his lap, turning to look at his face. While his mouth held firm, giving no show of emotion, she could see apathy in his eyes, pathos he had kept covered for a long time.

And then it hit her

"I... see you... I see you!"

"'Tis only the darkness of night that covers and blinds you Callo, but even that can be undone."

With a gesture of his hand, the sun rose up into the sky, bathing the fields around them in light, while she sat in the shade of a large oak tree atop a small incline. Ashley's arms were wrapped around her waist, pulling her gently against his chest so that she could feel the rise and fall of his lungs as he inhaled and exhaled. Overhead, a nest of birds awoke, confused by the rising of the sun when there should have been none. But still, it was there... so they rose and took to the sky, singing their sweet morning song.

"It's... it's beautiful Ashley..."

_Beauty... yes, that's what it is, natural and elegant in its simplicity. Simple things happen here; things are born, things die, things live, breathe and eat..._

"I... I'm afraid Ashley. I know why you've brought me here and I... I am ready to go. I have nothing keeping me here, binding me to this existence, but still... I am afraid. A part of me clings fervently to life and doesn't want to go to whatever is awaiting me on the other side, if there is even an other side..."

"I understand Callo; I feel exactly the same way. One week from now, my time comes as well, and a part of me doesn't want to go. But that is the nature of all living things; we cling tenaciously to that which we accept as our lives and we can never truly part from that longing, but fate is inevitable. What will happen will happen, that is the only real truth. As much as we may want to believe that we can change our destinies, to change what was meant to be, to believe so is to lie to ourselves. We can only hope that our hearts desires can be fulfilled in the short time that we have upon this plane of existence. That is all that man can truly hope for..."

"If that's how you feel Ashley, then I am sorry for you," Callo said as she hung her head, shaking it; long brown locks gliding serenely through the air. "Life is what we make of it; that is the very tenet of existence that we must cling to for it to mean anything at all. Otherwise, what is the point of living? If we cannot love, if we cannot feel joy, happiness or sorrow, if we must proclaim that whatever happens was meant to be, then what was the point of any of it? The future must be fluid, constantly shifting, our destinies within our own hands for us to make our own decisions... I refuse to believe it can be anything else. Joseph, the Duke, Sydney, Hardin, Alex, Sondra, LeSait... they did not die for nothing, I cannot accept that! There must be meaning, can't you see that Ashley? Yet I was the one who cut my own eyes from my face... You are a fool Agent Riot, a stupid, ignorant, arrogant fool who thinks he knows everything, but knows nothing at all!"

A frigid silence hung over the still air between them, before Ashley finally broke it: "So be it."

A fire built up within Callo, the pain exploding throughout every vein and artery, venule and arteriole, capillary and fibre of her body, rapturous pain, exquisite pain that she couldn't get enough of, running riot within her. Eyelids fluttering, she closed her eyes and took one last breath, before fading away...


	23. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Her head lay to one side, still against his chest where it had fallen a week ago. His arms were still wrapped around her waist, gently holding her against him as he rocked both himself and Callo back and forth, weeping quietly to himself. This is what it had come to; there had been no choice in the matter for him. And now it was to come to an end, to finally put the story to rest and to close the book on this minor event in the history of the world. No one would know of it in years to come when the world had changed and time had gone by, the seconds and minutes they talked, the hours and days he wept, the weeks and months she had let creep by her, the years and decades the worlds population had grown, the centuries and millennia the world had evolved... It didn't matter, not one single iota and he didn't care for that much. But if that was how it was to be, then so be it. Like it or lump it he remembered saying to Marco when he'd kicked up a fuss over some vegetables at the dinner table. He couldn't even remember what the vegetables in question had been and that saddened, but not nearly as much as the fact that it may not have ever happened at all. And that was pain more than enough for an entire universe, let alone for one single man to carry upon his shoulders...

Gently he eased himself out from beneath her; she didn't move at all but he didn't expect her to. She was in no state to do so anyway...

He leant over her still form and left a gentle kiss upon her brow before turning to look up at the sky. It was daylight, but then, it had been daylight for an entire week, a phenomenon the people of the world hadn't failed to notice, especially when they saw two suns in the sky instead of the usual one. If he'd been in the mood for it, he might have laughed at what he imagined people must be thinking about it, but he wasn't. This was it, the end. To finish where it had truly began; he had once thought that Duke Bardorba's manor had been the locus of all that had happened, but that wasn't true. Yet, it couldn't be said that it had been the death of God in the dying stages of the war between heaven and hell, or his passing of his power unto Christ, or even when Müllenkamp gave her prophecy of Ashley's coming. No, it began here, in this field of grass where he had gone with his family to have a picnic, where he had slaughtered two innocents he didn't know. Whether either was the truth or not, it didn't matter, not really. Regardless of physical fact, the mental and psychological truth was that it began at the top of this hill. It was the turning point in one Ashley Riot's life.

And so he took off into the sky, soaring through the atmosphere before leaving it completely behind. Further and further he flew, passing the planets he had once seen with his father when they had been up late one night, passing galaxies and nebulae he had never known existed, flying so fast he distorted the rules of physics and nature, until he finally reached his destination.

He rotated slowly upon an axis and cast his gaze upon the nothingness before him. Not even a single dust particle existed; it couldn't be said to be empty for there was nothing that could have filled it. One cannot exist without the other, but yet... there was something there that could fill it.

And so he did, exploding into a supernova, creating something from nothing, matter and anti-matter clashing together and sparks flying, planets evolving, galaxies forming, stars burning...

_Let it all begin again..._

* * *

Hands lying idly upon the ground. Birdsong in the air. Rays of light drifting through heavy eyelids. Cool air brushing over fair skin, rustling long brown locks of hair.

She opened her eyes and inhaled, the sweet air filling her lungs, bringing rapture to her soul. She knew he was gone, but he had left something behind, a present from him to her, a parting gift to remember him by, to remember that nothing is ever set in stone.

Callo brought her hand to rest upon her waist, to try and feel the life that she knew was now growing inside of her. She smiled, something she hadn't done in a very long time, not since she had played tag with a young little boy who had unfortunately died.

Awareness flooded into her and she realised that she could feel the world around her breathing, its serenity with its part in existence, in knowing that all was well and right with everything it need be concerned with. And she felt the same way; she could hear Ashley, Sydney and Müllenkamp whispering to her gently, among many others, telling her that everything would be alright. Gentle hands helped her to her feet as she kept her hand upon her waist, hesitant to detach herself from the child that she now carried. But then, nothing ever would...

A voice was asking her questions, but she realised it wasn't one of _those_ voices, but one in the physical world. Turning her head, she looked right at him.

"--ou alright Callo?" asked Regnak, worry painted across his face.

"There's nothing to be afraid of Regnak, everything is as it should be..."

She looked around her and saw that she was still where Ashley had left her, but she realised that she had no actual clue where it was. And then it clicked within her, she knew...

"Golgotha..."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing Regnak, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter at all..."

Casting a sidelong glance at her as he pulled her left arm over his shoulders, wrapping his right around her waist, he merely nodded.

"I think it's high time we took you home, don't you Callo?"

"Yes, yes I think it is..."

And so they left the hill of Golgotha and made their way back where they belonged...


	24. Afterword

**Afterword**

Well, if you've suffered through all of that, I apologise to you. I can't deny that I got so much of this completely and utterly wrong, it's unbelievable. There's so many plot points from the game I managed to distort in my head, that you may well have found this to be a complete and utter mish-mash of nonsense. But still, it's enjoyable nonsense I hope P I do actually have another Vagrant Story fanfic in the planning stages at the moment, Abjuration of the Flesh, but lord knows when that'll ever show up. It's not a sequel to this, nor a rewrite, but something pretty different, and a lot more accurate towards the source material.

To those of you still reading, thank you, and I hope you enjoyed this trash P


End file.
